On the warm earth (collection). The last years of the writer's life

Mikitov writer work

Smolensk region rises from the pages of I.S. Sokolova - Mikitov "Elen", "Childhood", stories "On the warm earth", "On the river Bride", records of old years "On their own land", which the author calls "bylitsy"; the peculiar language and traditions of our region are reflected in the "naughty tales" and the collection of stories and fairy tales for children "Kuzovok".

The stories that make up these cycles depict the life of a whole generation of Russian peasants in the critical twenties, here the poetry of nature, like the poetry of everyday life, is reflected in all its immediate freshness and purity.

In the stories "Elen" and "Childhood" Ivan Sergeevich tried to recall that old village, which “now no longer exists on Smolensk land”, that way of life and thoughts of the villagers that was on the eve of the “big break of the old”. It was as if he was examining the past from all sides for the last time, perhaps remembering his own words, expressed a little later, in one of the books: “Unable to look into the past, we will not learn to see the future.”

The story "Elen"- connection of two stories about the family of the landowner Dmitry Khludov and the family of the peasant - the forester Frol, supplemented short stories about peasants and the petty nobility, stories in which Khludov and Frol are direct or indirect participants. The life of the forester Frol alone with nature and the destruction of the forests by the Khludovs - this opposition is, as it were, a hidden engine, an internal unifying idea of the story. The lyrical tonality of previous works of similar themes in "Eleni" is colored with the tones of epic writing. In addition, "Elen" is literally permeated with a feeling of love for the people, the homeland, which are felt by the author organically spiritually - kindred.

In the story, Sokolov-Mikitov, who in difficult critical years affirms faith in the healthy beginnings of the Russian peasant, in whose “face” there is “so much life reserve, fun and kindness,” saw rural life in a new way. The story stated that without an understanding of the natural world, without a true love for the life of his people, a person, his relatives are doomed to extinction, if not physical, then at the first stage, moral. Depicting the process of degeneration of the Khludov dynasty of timber merchants, the author simultaneously showed the merchant robbery, which traumatized not only the living flesh of the forest, but also the soul of the Russian peasant.

And in "Eleni" and even earlier - in the stories from the cycle "On the River Bride", in "Epics" ("On Your Own Coffin" and others) Sokolov - Mikitov reflected on the fate of the Russian forest, its significance in the life of the people, coming to the statement that indifference to nature is like indifference to the fate of the motherland - it leads to spiritual and even physical death (Khludovs, Kryuchins).

Tracing the formation of Frol's character, Sokolov-Mikitov showed that national type of peasant Russia, which personified his homeland in his view: strong, strong-willed, pure in soul and body. Frol's life is as pure as his thoughts. He reflects on the eternal questions that inevitably arise before people who live alone with nature. Dmitry Khludov, unable to live as cleanly and firmly, is also unable to understand the nature of human existence, to feel it as intensely as the forester Frol. Khludov has no hatred for peasant lumberjacks. Not wanting to love and not knowing how to hate, he is indifferent, there is no living force in him that could still support life in him.

Frol dies, and buries him in the village graveyard, and is this not a symbol: the strong, spiritually pure future of the village is parting with its past.

In the "inhabitants" of the story "Elen" one can easily recognize the inhabitants of Sokolov's native villages - Mikitov's villages - people who surrounded the writer himself in pre-revolutionary childhood and later, in the twenties: here is the friendly, shaggy, light and thin, invariably cheerful and hoarse shepherd Avdey, knowing to the last bush the forest and meadows and "burrows of every cattle"; and red-haired, well-armed, laughing and mischievous, with impudent transparent squinting eyes, a joker, a village troublemaker and a rebel Sapunok, whom the authorities consider for cunning and fearlessness “The biggest rogue from the whole village; and constantly weaving nonsense Maximyonok; and dexterous, with shining eyes, “from which human complete happiness flowed”, neat, faithful and gentle Marya; and frantic village youths - dancers; and the gloomy Burmakin peasants grabbing stakes on holidays, and the Burmakin hero, the calm and reasonable Pockmarked Nikolai and other dissimilar, different and at the same time spiritually close people, united by one grief, one suffering and common holidays, they all make up, as it were, a single national element .

The story "Elen" is one of the best works of our literature, located, as it were, at the junction of today's literature and literature of the 19th century, continuing and developing traditions from writers of the sixties to Bunin and Kuprin.

Love for the land - the nurse, the native Smolensk region, for people, their customs, traditions, way of life are embodied by the writer in an autobiographical story "Childhood"(1932). It consists of short stories: "Moving", "Garden", "Summer", "Raft", "Village", "Father". Actions take place in the village of Kislovo and on the road to it, in the estate, house, garden, on the river, in the fields, vegetable gardens, in the village of Shchekino in a large dense forest, on the banks of the Ugra and the poetic river Bride, where grandfather and great-grandfather, father lived.

A great place in the story is occupied by the image of the father, who was the first who taught the boy to love and understand the life around him, who introduced him to the wonderful and mysterious world of nature, laid the foundations of the moral foundations of the future writer. Telling in the chapter “The Raft” about how with admiration Gray listened to his father’s tales about the raft, on which two little boys Seryozha and Petya made their exciting journeys along the river Bride, the writer emphasizes that these tales left a lasting mark on his memory, not only because that there were many funny adventures in them, but above all because they are always based on a deep educational meaning. Fairy tales took Sivoy to a distant land of justice and goodness, where love, humanity and camaraderie triumphed, where there was no place for evil and violence.

In "Childhood" it is said about the same events and people as in the story "Elen", only a decade earlier. Thus, the Khludovs (“Elen”) family of millionaires undoubtedly served as a prototype for the family of millionaires Konshins (“Childhood”), for whom, as you know, the writer’s father served as the manager of forest lands.

“Grey idols” (“Elen”) and “Men - raftsmen” (“Childhood”), Frol and forest land manager Sergei Nikitich, a young lady Kuzhalikha, ruined, “burnt” in the hungry year 1917 (“Elen”) and other characters stories have many things in common character traits. And the events themselves, unfolding in the story "Childhood", lead to the action taking place in "Eleni". Preparing the story for reprinting, Sokolov-Mikitov even considered them as a whole narrative, perhaps that is why the individual chapters and episodes of "Eleni" (chapter "Merry Fair"), repeating the content of "Childhood", were excluded by the writer and were not included in the four-volume collection his writings.

Just like in "Eleni", in "Childhood" there are many amazing pictures of Russian nature, landscapes, permeated with the feelings and thoughts of the author. They seem to be inseparable from the whole atmosphere of the old Russian estate where they originated.

And although the hero of the story claims that he has nothing to regret from the past, he still “feels sorry for only grouse broods, village songs and sundresses, which once filled childish feeling joy and love, which it is now impossible to return by any means”, now in the Smolensk region “village young men and girls no longer lead on the mountain of round dances”, rarely - rarely a sundress will appear on the street, and rarely will they play an old drawn-out song in the evening.

In the story “Childhood”, as well as in the stories “On the Warm Ground”, “Date with Childhood”, Sokolov-Mikitov emphasized the inextricable connection between the life and fate of the hero with the image of the motherland, the fusion with the fate of his people: “When I talk about the life and fate of a boy with with an open fair-haired head, this image merges with the idea of my homeland and nature.

For Vanya, the hero of the story "Childhood", the future was determined by the "Blue Sounding Dazzling World". Then the warmth of the golden miracle merges with parental love. Successfully developing relations with people subsequently determined the writer's creative position in depicting a person, and confirmed in him a bright idea of the Russian people. Sokolov-Mikitov himself defined the origins of his special, lyrical talent as follows: "I owe the rural estate world, the ordinary people around me, the Russian folk nature the lyrical property of my talent."

I.S. Sokolov - Mikitov believed that Russian nature, depicted in a work of art, can become truly beautiful and attractive if it is adorned with a genuine human feeling; it all depends on the mood of the soul, which the artist who draws it has. Only he will imprint in her national identity who knows how, by virtue of his spiritual development, to connect the world in which he lives with the world of his own ideas and moods. Therefore, in Sokolov-Mikitov, man and nature are always interconnected, they act as equals in the living world. This determined the peculiar mood of the works of Sokolov - Mikitov for six decades. Already in his early stories, nature is the same actor, like the person himself ("Glushaks", "Honey Hay").

A man in his relations with the world, nature, a kind man on a good land, a dreamer with a romantic mindset - such is the hero of the stories of Sokolov - Mikitov of the twenties.

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I. S. SOKOLOV-MIKITOV

Sixty years of active creative work in the turbulent 20th century, full of so many events and upheavals, is the result of the life of the remarkable Soviet writer Ivan Sergeevich Sokolov-Mikitov.

He spent his childhood in the Smolensk region, with its sweet, truly Russian nature. In those days, the old way of life and way of life was still preserved in the village. The boy's first impressions were festive festivities, village fairs. It was then that he merged with his native land, with its immortal beauty.

When Vanya was ten years old, he was sent to a real school. Unfortunately, this institution was distinguished by bureaucracy, and the teaching went badly. In the spring, the smells of awakened greenery irresistibly attracted the boy beyond the Dnieper, to its banks, covered with a gentle haze of blossoming foliage.

Sokolov-Mikitov was expelled from the fifth grade of the school "on suspicion of belonging to student revolutionary organizations." It was impossible to enter anywhere with a “wolf ticket”. The only educational institution that did not require a certificate of reliability was St. Petersburg private agricultural courses, where a year later he was able to enter, although, as the writer admitted, he did not feel a great attraction to agriculture, just as, however, he never felt attraction to settlement, property, domesticity ...

Boring coursework soon turned out to be not to the liking of Sokolov-Mikitov, a man with a restless, restless character. Having settled in Reval (now Tallinn) on a merchant fleet steamer, he wandered around the wide world for several years. I saw many cities and countries, visited European, Asian and African ports, made close friends with working people.

First World War found Sokolov-Mikitov in a foreign land. With great difficulty he got from Greece to his homeland, and then he volunteered for the front, flew the first Russian bomber "Ilya Muromets", served in the sanitary detachments.

In Petrograd, he met the October Revolution, listened with bated breath to the speech of V. I. Lenin in the Tauride Palace. In the editorial office of Novaya Zhizn, he met Maxim Gorky and other writers. In these critical years for the country, Ivan Sergeevich becomes a professional writer.

After the revolution - a short work as a teacher of a unified labor school in his native Smolensk places. By this time, Sokolov-Mikitov had already published the first stories noticed by such masters as I.

Bunin and A. Kuprin.

"Warm Land" - this is how the writer called one of his first books. And it would be difficult to find a more accurate, more capacious name! After all, the native Russian land is really warm, because it is warmed by the warmth of human labor and love.

The stories of Sokolov-Mikitov about the campaigns of the flagships of the icebreaker fleet "Georgy Sedov" and "Malygin", which laid the foundation for the development of the Northern Sea Route, date back to the time of the first polar expeditions. On one of the islands of the Arctic Ocean, a bay was named after Ivan Sergeevich Sokolov-Mikitov, where he found the buoy of the dead Ziegler expedition, whose fate was unknown until that moment.

Sokolov-Mikitov spent several winters on the shores of the Caspian Sea, traveled around the Kola and Taimyr Peninsulas, Transcaucasia, the Tien Shan mountains, the Northern and Murmansk regions. He wandered through the dense taiga, saw the steppe and the sultry desert, traveled all over the Moscow region. Each such trip not only enriched him with new thoughts and experiences, but was also captured by him in new works.

Hundreds of stories and short stories, essays and sketches were given to people by this man of good talent. The pages of his books are illuminated with wealth and generosity of soul.

The work of Sokolov-Mikitov is close to Aksakov's, Turgenev's, and Bunin's style. However, his works have their own special world: not third-party observation, but live communication with the surrounding life.

About Ivan Sergeevich in the encyclopedia it is written: “Russian Soviet writer, sailor, traveler, hunter, ethnographer". And although there is a point further, this list could be continued: a teacher, a revolutionary, a soldier, a journalist, a polar explorer.

The books of Sokolov-Mikitov are written in a melodious, rich and at the same time very plain language, thus, which the writer learned in his childhood.

In one of his autobiographical notes, he wrote: “I was born and grew up in a simple working Russian family, among the forest expanses of the Smolensk region, its wonderful and very feminine nature. The first words I heard were bright folk words, the first music I heard were folk songs that once inspired the composer Glinka.

In search of new visual means, the writer, back in the twenties of the last century, turned to a peculiar genre of short (not short, but short) stories, which he successfully dubbed bylits.

To an inexperienced reader, these tales may seem like simple notes from a notebook, made on the go, in memory of the events and characters that struck him.

We have already seen the best examples of such short non-fictional stories in L. Tolstoy, I. Bunin, V. Veresaev, M. Prishvin.

Sokolov-Mikitov in his stories comes not only from the literary tradition, but also from folk art, from the immediacy of oral stories.

For his bylits "Redheads and blacks", "To your own grave", "Terrible dwarf", "Groomsmen" and others are characterized by extraordinary capacity and accuracy of speech. Even in the so-called hunting stories, he has a person in the foreground. Here he continues best traditions S. Aksakov and I. Turgenev.

Reading Sokolov-Mikitov’s short stories about Smolensk places (“On the Bride River”) or about birdhouses in the south of the country (“Lenkoran”), one involuntarily gets imbued with sublime feelings and thoughts, a feeling of admiration for native nature turns into something else, more noble, - into feeling of patriotism.

“His creativity, having its source in a small homeland (that is, the Smolensk region), belongs to a large Motherland, our great land with its vast expanses, innumerable riches and diverse beauty - from north to south, from the Baltic to the Pacific coast,” said Sokolov-Mikitov A. Tvardovsky.

Not all people are able to feel and understand nature in an organic connection with the human mood, and only a few can paint nature simply and wisely. Sokolov-Mikitov possessed such a rare gift. This love for nature and for people who live in friendship with it, he was able to convey to his very young reader. Our preschool and school children have long been fond of his books: “Kuzovok”, “House in the Forest”, “Fox Subterfuges” ... And how picturesque are his stories about hunting: “On the capercaillie current”, “Tightening”, “First hunt” and others. You read them, and it seems that you yourself are standing on the edge of the forest and, holding your breath, follow the majestic flight of the woodcock or, in the early, predawn hour, listen to the mysterious and magical song of the capercaillie...

The writer Olga Forsh said: “You read Mikitov and wait: a woodpecker is about to knock over your head or a hare jumps out from under the table; how great it is, really told!”

The work of Sokolov-Mikitov is autobiographical, but not in the sense that he wrote only about himself, but because he always talked about everything as an eyewitness and participant in certain events. This gives his works a vivid persuasiveness and that documentary authenticity that attracts the reader so much.

“I was lucky to get close to Ivan Sergeevich in early years his literary work- recalled K. Fedin. This was shortly after the Civil War. For half a century, he devoted me to his life so much that it sometimes seems to me that it has become mine.

He never set out to write his biography in detail. But he is one of those rare artists whose life, as it were, summed up everything that he wrote.

Kaleria Zhekhova

IN THE NATIVE LAND

Sunrise

Even in early childhood I had a chance to admire the sunrise. In the early spring morning, on a holiday, my mother sometimes woke me up, carried me to the window in her arms:

- Look how the sun plays!

Behind the trunks of old lindens, a huge flaming ball rose above the awakened earth. He seemed to swell, shone with a joyful light, played, smiled. My childish soul rejoiced. For the rest of my life I remember the face of my mother, illuminated by the rays rising sun.

In adulthood, I have watched the sunrise many times. I met him in the forest, when before dawn the pre-morning wind passes above the tops of the head, one after another the pure stars go out in the sky, the black peaks are more and more clearly indicated in the lightened sky. There is dew on the grass. A cobweb stretched in the forest sparkles with many sparkles. Clean and transparent air. On a dewy morning, it smells like resin in a dense forest.

I saw the sunrise over my native fields, over a green meadow covered with dew, over the silver surface of the river. Pale morning stars, a thin sickle of the month, are reflected in the cool mirror of water. Dawn breaks in the east, and the water appears pink. As if in a steamy light haze, the sun rises above the earth to the singing of countless birds. Like the living breath of the earth, a light golden mist spreads over the fields, over the motionless ribbon of the river. The sun is rising higher. Cool transparent dew in the meadows shines like diamonds.

I observed the appearance of the sun on a frosty winter morning, when deep snow shone unbearably, a light frosty hoarfrost scattered from the trees. I admired the sunrise in the high mountains of the Tien Shan and the Caucasus, covered with sparkling glaciers.

The sunrise over the ocean is especially beautiful. Being a sailor, standing on watch, I watched many times how the rising sun changes its color: either it swells up with a flaming ball, then it is covered with fog or distant clouds. And everything around suddenly changes. Distant shores, crests of oncoming waves seem different. The color of the sky itself changes, covering the endless sea with a golden-blue tent. The foam on the crests of the waves seems to be golden. Gulls flying behind the stern seem golden. The masts shine with scarlet gold, the painted side of the ship glistens. You used to stand on watch at the bow of the ship, your heart filled with unspeakable joy. A new day is born! How many meetings and adventures he promises to a young happy sailor!

Residents of big cities rarely admire the sunrise. High stone masses of city houses cover the horizon. Even villagers wake up for the short hour of sunrise, the beginning of the day. But in the living world of nature, everything is awakening. On the edges of the forest, over the illuminated water, the nightingales sing loudly. Soar from the fields into the sky, disappearing in the rays of dawn, light larks. Cuckoos happily cuckoo, thrushes whistle.

Only sailors, hunters, people who are closely connected with mother earth, know the joy of a solemn sunrise when life awakens on earth.

My friends, readers, I strongly advise you to admire the sunrise, the pure early morning dawn. You will feel your heart fill with fresh joy. In nature, there is nothing more charming than early morning, early morning dawn, when the earth breathes maternal breath and life awakens.

Russian Winter

Good, pure Russian snowy winters. Deep snowdrifts sparkle in the sun. Large and small rivers hid under the ice. On a frosty, quiet morning, smoke rises into the sky in pillars above the roofs of village houses. Under the snow coat, gaining strength, the earth is resting.

Quiet and bright winter nights. Pouring the snow with a thin light, the moon shines. Fields and tree tops shimmer in the moonlight. The winter road is clearly visible. Dark shadows in the forest. The winter night frost is strong, tree trunks crackle in the forest. High stars are scattered across the sky. The Big Dipper shines brightly with a clear North Star pointing north. The Milky Way stretched from end to end across the sky - a mysterious heavenly road. AT Milky Way spread its wings Cygnus - a large constellation.

There is something fantastic, fabulous in the lunar winter night. I recall Pushkin's poems, Gogol's stories, Tolstoy, Bunin. Who had to travel moonlit night on winter country roads, probably, he will remember his impressions.

And how beautiful is the winter dawn, the morning dawn, when the snow-covered fields and hillocks are illuminated by the golden rays of the rising sun and the dazzling whiteness will sparkle, sparkle! Unusual Russian winter, bright winter days, moonlit nights!

Once hungry wolves roamed the snowy fields and roads; foxes ran, leaving thin chains of footprints in the snow, looking for mice hiding under the snow. Even during the day one could see a mouse fox in the field. Carrying a fluffy tail over the snow, she ran through the fields and copses, with a sharp ear smelling mice hiding under the snow.

Wonderful sunny winter days. Expanse for skiers running on light skis on slippery snow. I did not like well-trodden ski tracks. It is difficult to see an animal or a forest bird near such a ski track, where a person runs in a chain after a person. On skis, I went into the forest alone. Skis gliding quickly, almost inaudibly over untouched snow. The pines raise their curly whitened tops to the high sky. White snow lies on the green prickly branches of sprawling fir trees. Under the weight of frost, young tall birches bent into an arc. Dark ant heaps are covered with snow. Black ants hibernate in them.

Full of life winter, it would seem, a dead forest.

Here a woodpecker tapped on a dry tree. Carrying a bump in his beak, he flew with a colorful handkerchief to another place - to his "forge", arranged in the fork of an old stump, deftly set the bump into his workbench and began to peck with his beak. Resinous scales flew in all directions. There are a lot of pecked cones lying around the stump. A nimble squirrel jumped from tree to tree. A large white snow cap fell from the tree, crumbling into snow dust.

On the edge of the forest, you can see black grouse sitting on birch trees. In winter they feed on birch buds. Wandering through the snow, picking black juniper berries. Cross-shaped traces of grouse paws are written between the bushes on the surface of the snow. On cold winter days, black grouse, falling from birches, burrow into the snow, into deep holes. A lucky skier sometimes manages to pick up black grouse hiding in the snow holes. One by one, in the diamond snow dust, birds fly out of the deep snow. Stop, admiring the marvelous spectacle.

Many wonders can be seen in the winter sleeping forest. A hazel grouse will fly by with noise or a heavy capercaillie will rise. All winter capercaillie feed on young pines with hard needles. Timber mice are scampering under the snow. Hedgehogs sleep under tree roots. They run through the trees, chasing squirrels, evil martens. A flock of red-breasted merry crossbills, dropping their snowy overhang, perched with a pleasant whistle on the branches of a spruce covered with resinous cones. You stand and admire how quickly and deftly they pull heavy cones, extracting seeds from them. A light trace of a squirrel stretches from tree to tree. Clinging to the branches, a gnawed cone fell off from above, fell to the feet. Raising my head, I see how the branch swayed, freed from gravity, how it jumped over, the nimble forest naughty hid in the dense peak. Somewhere in a dense forest, bears sleep in their lairs with an almost deep sleep. The stronger the frost, the stronger the bear sleeps. Horned moose roam in the aspen forest.

The surface of deep snowdrifts is covered with an intricate letter of animal and bird tracks. At night, a white hare, fattening in the aspen forest, ran through here, leaving round nutlets of droppings on the snow. Brown hares run through the fields at night, dig out winter bread, leave tangled tracks in the snow. No, no, yes, and he will sit down on his hind legs, his ears up, listening to the distant barking of dogs. In the morning, hares hide in the forest. They double and build their tracks, make long marks, lie down somewhere under a bush or spruce branch, head to their track. It is difficult to see a hare lying in the snow: he is the first to notice a person and quickly runs away.

Near the villages and ancient parks you see swollen red-throated bullfinches, and nimble, bold titmouse squeak near the houses. It happens that on a frosty day, tits fly into open windows or in the canopy of houses. I tamed the tits that flew into my little house, and they quickly settled down in it.

The crows left to spend the winter fly from tree to tree. Grey-headed jackdaws call to each other with womanish voices. Here, under the very window, a nuthatch flew in, sat on a tree, amazing bird able to crawl up the trunk upside down. Sometimes a nuthatch, like tits, flies into an open window. If you do not move, do not frighten him, he will fly into the kitchen, picking up bread crumbs. Birds are hungry in winter. They forage in the crevices of tree bark. Bullfinches feed on seeds of plants wintering over the snow, wild rose berries, and stay near grain sheds.

It seems that the river has frozen under the ice, the river is sleeping. But there are fishermen on the ice by the holes. They are not afraid of frost, cold, piercing wind. Inveterate anglers get cold hands, but small perches come across on the hook. In winter, burbots spawn. They prey on dormant fish. Skilful fishermen in winter catch burbots in the spaced peaks and burrows, block the river with spruce branches. They catch burbots in winter and on hooks, on bait. In the Novgorod region, I knew an old fisherman who brought me live burbot every day. Delicious burbot ear and liver. But, unfortunately, there are few burbots left in the polluted rivers who love clean water.

And how beautiful in winter are forest lakes covered with ice and snow, frozen small rivers, in which life invisible to the eye continues! Aspen trees are good in winter with the finest lace of their bare branches against the background of a dark spruce forest. In some places, wintered berries turn red in the forest on mountain ash, bright clusters of viburnum hang.

March in the forest

In the riches of the calendar of Russian nature, March is listed as the first month of spring, a joyful holiday of light. The cold, blizzard February has already ended - “crooked roads”, as the people call it. According to the popular apt word, even "winter shows its teeth." In early March, frost often returns. But the days are getting longer, earlier and earlier the bright spring sun rises above the snowy shroud. Deep snowdrifts lie untouched in the forests and on the field. You will go out on skis - such unbearable whiteness will sparkle around!

The air smells like spring. Casting purple shadows on the snow, the trees stand motionless in the forest. Transparent and clear sky with high light clouds. Under the dark fir trees, the porous snow is sprinkled with fallen needles. A sensitive ear catches the first familiar sounds of spring. Here, almost above the head, a ringing drum trill was heard. No, this is not the creak of an old tree, as inexperienced city people usually think when they find themselves in the forest in early spring. This, having chosen a dry, sonorous tree, is drummed in spring by a forest musician - a motley woodpecker. If you listen carefully, you will certainly hear: here and there in the forest, closer and further, as if calling to each other, drums solemnly sound. This is how woodpecker drummers greet the arrival of spring.

Here, warmed by the rays of the March sun, a heavy white hat fell off the top of a tree by itself, crumbling into snow dust. And, as if alive, sways for a long time, as if waving a hand, a green branch, freed from winter shackles. A flock of spruce crossbills, whistling merrily, scattered like a wide red lingonberry necklace over the tops of fir trees hung with cones. Only a few observant people know that these cheerful, sociable birds spend the whole winter in coniferous forests. In the most severe cold, they skillfully arrange warm nests in thick boughs, take out and feed their chicks. Leaning on ski poles, you admire for a long time how nimble birds are picking cones with their crooked beaks, choosing seeds from them, how, circling in the air, light husks quietly fall onto the snow.

An almost invisible and inaudible life, accessible only to a keen eye and a sensitive ear, lives at this time a barely awakened forest. Here, dropping a gnawed cone, a light squirrel perched on a tree. Jumping from twig to twig, the titmouses are already spring-like shadows above the snowdrift. Flickering behind the trunks of trees, the reddish jay will silently fly by and disappear. A fearful hazel grouse will flutter, thunder and hide in the depths of a forest overgrown ravine.

Illuminated by the rays of the sun, the bronze trunks of pine trees rise, raising their sprawling peaks into the very sky. The greenish branches of bare aspens were intertwined in the finest lace. It smells of ozone, resin, wild rosemary, the hard evergreen branches of which have already appeared from a broken snowdrift near a high stump warmed by the March sun.

Festive, clean in the illuminated forest. Bright spots of light lie on branches, on tree trunks, on compacted dense snowdrifts. Gliding on skis, you used to go out onto a sunny, sparkling clearing surrounded by a birch forest. Unexpectedly, almost from under the very feet, in the diamond snow dust, black grouse begin to break out of the holes. All morning they fed on spreading, bud-strewn birch trees. One after another, red-browed black scythes, yellowish-gray female grouse, fly out resting in the snow.

On clear days, in the mornings, you can already hear the first spring muttering of lekking mowers. In the frosty air, their booming voices can be heard far away. But the real spring current will not begin soon. This is only a test of strength, sharpening weapons clad in black armor, red-browed fighters.

In blessed memory of Ivan Sergeevich Sokolov-
Mikitova is dedicated

February 20, 2015 marks forty years since the wonderful writer, truly the singer of nature and the man in it, Ivan Sergeevich Sokolov-Mikitov, is no longer with us. His contemporary and colleague M. Prishvin argued that the pantry of the sun is nature and man in it. And after many years, we can rightly say that the work of Ivan Sergeevich is a real pantry of the sun, it is so filled with love, warmth and comfort of his native country, native land- small and large Motherland.
A native of the Kaluga province, Ivan Sergeevich grew up in the Smolensk region, but his advanced years since 1952 have been associated with our Konakovo district, the village of Karacharovo, where he lived in a house built with his own hands.
Ivan Sergeevich was born on May 17 (30), 1892 in the small village of Oseki near Kaluga in the family of Sergei Nikitich Sokolov, who managed the forest estate of the millionaire Konshin. It is interesting that the second part of the surname - Mikitov - Ivan Sergeevich kept from his grandfather. In the story “Childhood”, he wrote: “They began to call us Mikitovs for my grandfather, the deacon of the Shchekino church. About him until old age in the village they said: “You, Nikita, are like a ruff, you don’t have peace, you are all fussing.”
In his autobiographical notes, Ivan Sergeevich notes: “I was born and raised in a simple working Russian family, among the forest expanses of the Smolensk region, its wonderful and very feminine nature ... I owe to my native Russian nature the lyrical property of my talent ... From my mother I borrowed a flair for word and anxiety of character, from the father - love for nature, the lyrical warehouse of the soul. My father awakened in me a passion for hunting.”
In the story "On the warm earth" he writes: "Even in the years early childhood I kept a secret confidence to see and go around the world. I devoted myself to reading books with the greatest enthusiasm... I lived joyfully, moved in the sunny joyful world that surrounded me, was myself a particle of this happy world...
Talking to people, I began to think about many things. The words were sharply remembered, the talent of the common people, wealth, imagery vernacular. With youthful ardor, he painfully experienced the injustice of people's inequality, felt the sharpness of contrasts: poverty and wealth, hunger and contentment. And I got to know and saw more and more a diverse, very complex and many-sided life ... ".
“The sea conquered me,” wrote Ivan Sergeevich. In 1913, he began his sea wanderings around the world as a sailor in the merchant fleet, and later they formed the basis of his collection Sea Stories. Ivan Sergeevich experienced the ordeals in a foreign land from his own experience. He spoke about this in the story "Chizhikov Lavra" (1925). What are these confessions worth here: “In Germany, then in England, I realized all my hopelessness ... I missed Russia very much ...” And further - “I noticed long ago that many Russians, having lived in America, dragged the American collar , somehow empty, as if the soul is leaving, and everything they have for the sake of money ... ". Or here: “Everything is fine on the Bosphorus, but I remember my native small river Gordota, overgrown with willow and alder forests.”
From a young age he had to go through a harsh school of life, including the trenches of the First World War. And already during the years of the revolution, Sokolov-Mikitov became a travel writer, an essayist. He travels and walks a lot around the country. He has over two hundred literary works. “Little Stories”, “On the River Bride,” Ivan Sergeevich remarked, “I wrote in the distant twenties, living in the countryside. In one of the stories we read: “Russian wonderful rivers are like sisters: that’s why the little river Bride is so similar to the neighboring river Gordota, Gordota to the Ugra, Ugra to the Oka, Oka to the great Russian mother river Volga.
Or here is his collection "Hunter's Tales" (1935-1953). These are lyrical sketches, a poetic depiction of nature. And the story “Sounds of Spring” from this collection, this “beautiful symphony” of a spring morning, has become one of the samples poetic prose Russian literature and was included in the collection of school dictations and expositions.
“Living in Karacharov,” Ivan Sergeevich modestly remarked, “I wrote several short stories, which depict nature close to my heart. We know that the novels “Childhood” (1953), “On the Warm Earth” (1954), “Sounds of the Earth” - (1962), “Karacharovsky Notes” - (1968) were published here.
Ivan Sergeevich himself, in the preface to the book “On the Warm Ground” (State Publishing House, 1954, M.), writes: “The general theme of the works - from the story“ Childhood ”to stories about travels around his native country - is determined by the title of the book.” And we really see here with what heartfelt awe the author conveys the warmth of his native land - whether it be the swampy shores of the Bride or the high bank of the Volga, the hot Astrakhan and Caspian floodplains, the impregnable mountains of the Caucasus, the tundra of Taimyr or the ice fields of Severnaya Zemlya, where he and on the instructions of the editors of the central newspapers, and at the call of the heart.
Reading and pondering his works, it is impossible not to notice that their main background is space - whether it is the sea, or a small forest glade with a black grouse or capercaillie current, or a small swamp overgrown with emerald moss.
With full right, in one of his works “Spring in Chun”, he exclaims: “Motherland! This word, full of deep meaning, sounds especially to me. I see its vast fields, agitated by the harvest. A warm wind flies over them, raising flower dust. The country that gave birth to us is vast and diverse. Inexhaustible and full-flowing rivers cross its spaces. Vast, green forests, high mountains, shining with eternal glaciers. The light of the bright sun is reflected in their snowy peaks. The sultry steppes are wide, the deaf Siberian taiga, spread out over the ocean, is impenetrable. Crowded, numerous cities scattered in our country. Many languages are spoken by the people who inhabited this majestic country. Spacious blue distances, calls and wonderful songs of the people living in it.
Everything he saw and experienced, understanding of his native land, the work of people, the fullness of life, Ivan Sergeevich conveyed to his readers. He saw, in his own words, how "old rural Russia left, carried her grief in a knapsack, for eternity, now she will not return!" How I want to believe it. Give something God.
Ivan Sergeevich shares with us the most intimate: “From an early age, I was irresistibly attracted to simple people close to nature. In distant and long wanderings on the land that joyfully received me, I met and happily met with such people who filled my heart with sympathy and love. In the story “A Date with Childhood” we read: “I felt an inseparable connection with living Russia, I saw good and evil ... I knew and saw Russia with the blood of my heart. I felt the cruel tragic shortcomings, the vices that the people were sick with, in myself ... Russia was for me the very world in which I lived, moved, breathed ... I myself was Russia, a person with a sad, joyless fate.
All this allowed him to say so precisely about Russian nature: “... to say God knows what, but to be firm in deeds. After all, each of us is capable of verbally refusing the deed a thousand times, scolding the deed and cursing everyone and everything, but at the same time leading it uncompromisingly to the end, despite troubles and misfortunes” (story “Here and There”).
In a short newspaper article, it is difficult, of course, to convey the whole gamut of feelings and thoughts that arise when reading the works of I.S. Sokolov-Mikitov. This can be clearly conveyed, illustrated by the paintings of the remarkable Russian painter Arkady Alexandrovich Rylov (1870-1939) “Subbotikha River”, “Green Noise”, “In the Blue Space”, “Flowery Meadow”, “Field Rowan”, etc. Peer into these pictures, and you will be imbued with what was close and dear to Ivan Sergeevich as a writer, Arkady Alexandrovich - as an artist, and therefore, no doubt, to their compatriots.
In the Karacharov period of his life, Sokolov-Mikitov also turned to the memoir genre. Here he wrote "Autobiographical Notes" (1954), "Date with Childhood" and a book of memoirs "Old Meetings", on which the author worked until his last days. The book "Long Meetings" contains portrait sketches of writers with whom Ivan Sergeevich had to communicate, M. Gorky, I. Bunin, A. Kuprin, M. Prishvin, K. Fedin, A. Green, A. Tvardovsky, O. Forsh, V Shishkov, polar explorer P. Svirnenko, artist and scientist N. Pinegin.
Ivan Sergeevich died on February 20, 1975 in Moscow. The urn with his ashes was buried in the family cemetery in Gatchina. (Ivan Sergeevich and his family from 1929 to 1967 lived in Gatchina and Leningrad, Karacharov, then in Moscow and Karacharov).
Each new generation of people is faced with the question: how to educate young people and teenagers to love the Motherland, their Fatherland? On this issue, Ivan Sergeevich notes: “In the fate, tastes, character of each person, his childhood, the environment in which he lived, was brought up and grew up, are of great importance. The words that we hear from our mothers, the color of the sky we saw for the first time, the road running away into the distance, the overgrown river bank, the curly birch under the window of our home forever remain in our memory ... ".
And here, as the author of this short article, I want to add that one of the moments, one of the facets of education is reading, acquaintance with the outside world through samples of Russian literature. Read it for yourself, delve into the philosophy of the works of Sokolov-Mikitov, let the children read his works. And this is a whole block of works accessible to children's perception. For example, the collections "In the Forest" and "Kuzovok", other stories and fairy tales for children. Fortunately, our city library has all this, visit the house-museum of Sokolov-Mikitov in Karacharov and the exposition dedicated to him in our city museum of local lore. This will give you and your children and grandchildren the opportunity to get in touch with heart and soul with the artistic, life heritage of one of the true masters of Russian literature.
I am sure that years and decades will pass, but the work of Ivan Sergeevich will attract and excite more and more readers, thereby preserving the memory of one of the patriots of the Russian land, who possessed the gift of a literary style.
Yu. MAKAROV. Konakovo, 2015

"Nothing to regret" - and yet it's a pity

"I was born and raised in the middle part of Russia, between the Oka and Dnieper rivers, in a simple, working family, my great-grandfathers and grandfathers are forever connected with the earth" (Quoted here and further from: I. Sokolov-Mikitov. Collected works in four volumes. L., 1985; vol. 4. p. 130), - Ivan Sergeevich Sokolov-Mikitov wrote in his "Memoirs" of 1964.

He was born on May 17, 1892 in the village of Oseki, Kaluga province; lived a long, 82 years, life; died on February 20, 1975, leaving behind books that were highly valued by many of his contemporaries - among them were A. Remizov, I. Bunin, M. Gorky, M. Prishvin, A. Tolstoy, K. Fedin, A. Tvardovsky, K .Paustovsky. He was lucky to have good, devoted friends in life and literature. But I would like to believe that it belongs not only to the history of Russian literature, but also to the present day.

In one of his favorite works - the story "Childhood" (1931) - the writer lovingly and deeply poetically reproduced the world of childhood, which remained in his memory for the rest of his life and in which he rightly saw the very origins of both his character and his creativity. The image of the young hero in the story - of course, artistic generalization, in which personal impressions were melted like wax, illuminated by later life experience, voluntarily or involuntarily were subject to the laws of creativity. And yet there is much here that is deeply personal, autobiographical; Sokolov-Mikitov wrote about his hero, but thought about himself...

The beauty of Russian nature, the customs and traditions of the Russian village, the kaleidoscope of Russian characters, types that are imprinted in the children's minds, the most diverse - ordinary, ordinary and extraordinary - events of those distant years, whether it was a strong thunderstorm on the way or reading books, the death of Uncle Akim, - all this was laid in the foundation of the writer's personality, determined his view of the world, and later found its reflection in his artistic creativity... An unconscious feeling of the fullness of life served as the basis of his natural optimism, which then helped him in the most difficult cases of life.

However, childhood is not only a time of happiness, fullness of life; it is also a time of childhood fears, resentments, disappointments, a time when not only teeth and bones, but also a personality, a soul, erupt and grow - and this process is not always easy and simple, often painful, complex, disharmonious. The hero of the story - and, of course, the author - is familiar with despair, and the consciousness of his weakness, and the inability to understand many things that sometimes baffle him.

Sokolov-Mikitov's childhood fell on a time when much was already changing in Russia, leaving: the poetic "Larin" estates, the old landowner life of Turgenev's novels were disappearing, Chekhov's novels were being cut with might and main cherry orchards. Practical Lopakhins came to the village, to Russia, the "iron" city, with its strict orders and laws, was advancing. The age-old way of the Russian village, Russian peasant life was destroyed. “Everything changed then in the countryside. More and more often, suffering from unemployment and landlessness, the peasants went to work in the cities, moved to mines, to factories. ..." (p. 47). And yet - "there was still a lot of old, almost untouched in a remote Smolensk village ..." (p. 48).

“I have nothing to regret from this past,” we read at the end of the story. “It’s a pity only for grouse broods, village songs and sundresses, it’s a pity that once filled me with a childish feeling of joy and love, which now cannot be returned by any forces ...” (p. 96 ).

“There is nothing to regret” - and yet it’s a pity ... It’s a pity for a past, flashed childhood, those moments of happiness and fullness of life that he knew, that world of Russian life, an established life, customs, a pity for parents, friends, a pity for everything that " you can’t return by any means,” it’s a pity for the past, no matter how wonderful the future may be ... With this feeling of slight sadness and love-pity - here it is, his saving “raft”, - the writer says goodbye to his childhood.

We also find many of the motifs and themes of "Childhood" in the story "Elen" (1929), in which we also see an island of endless Russian space, the Russian cosmos. The plot of the story develops slowly, as if gradually. Its chronological framework is the Russo-Japanese War, the first Russian revolution of 1905. We will learn how Khludov made his capital, how his son squandered his father's inheritance. In parallel with the line of the Khludovs in the story, the theme of the Russian peasantry, its fate sounds, gaining a crescendo. The author tells us about ordinary Russian peasants, such as the forester Frol, his father, nicknamed Okunek, and other villagers. At the same time, the writer does not idealize them, he does not hide the fact that the village people often turn out to be indifferent to the misfortune of their countrymen. Poverty makes people callous, separates them; what unites them is their joint, friendly work. A true anthem to free collective labor is the chapter "Rafts" - about rafters who float timber along the river ...

Poetic and realistic at the same time the image of Yeleni - a quiet river and a small Russian village of the same name, which is located in the forest, in the swamps, in the very heart of Russia. Its median, root essence is confirmed by the fact that it is the focus of many traditions of Russian life, with all its specificity and originality, uniqueness. This world is dominated by respect for the distant and recent past, for the traditions of the ancestors. The sprouts of the new are slowly breaking through here - that which comes from the city, from outside world, with war, revolution. For all the isolation, tightness of this island of the Russian cosmos, it turns out to be vitally connected, connected with the whole of Russia, with its historical soil, destiny.

The story "Elen" was conceived as a novel; it feels some incompleteness, unfolding of storylines, atomic conciseness of images, individual scenes. However, the material underlying the story, the artist's realistic skill make it a completely self-valuable, self-sufficient work. Its relevance is not striking, it is not declared, but is an organic component of its artistic world. All this constitutes the characteristic features of the artist's creative manner, already established in the late 1920s and early 1930s.

Writer at 25

The formation of the writer took place in the conditions of a sharp revolutionary breakdown of the traditional foundations of the Russian national life. He was a witness and participant in the revolution of 1905, the February revolution, and finally, October 1917. I. Sokolov-Mikitov was drawn to his native land, to the village; he was in love with Russian nature with its open spaces and silence, Levitan's peace. At the same time, by his own admission, he "never felt attracted to a settled way of life, property, and domesticity" (p. 136). And so his life turned out to be filled with a variety of events from his very youth.

He often changed professions (he was a physician, aircraft engineer, sailor, etc.), traveled a lot, participated in the First World War, as already mentioned, was not just an outside observer in revolutionary events. But, finding himself far from home, he yearned for his homeland, he was again and again drawn to his native places in "middle Russia." All this was reflected in his work, in which the motives of the road, partings and meetings, the motives of distant wanderings and insatiable love for the Motherland - like in a symphony, complemented and enriched each other...

Already at the age of ten, I. Sokolov-Mikitov experienced the first "turn" in his life, when, together with his family, they moved from the village to the city (Smolensk), where a complex and contradictory world, previously unfamiliar, opened up to him.

At the school, he especially did not get along with the teacher of the law - a class mentor, "who for some reason did not like me" (p. 133). He was "expelled from the fifth grade of a real school with a wolf ticket" on suspicion of belonging to student revolutionary organizations. "" The expulsion from the school was preceded by a search in my little room on Zapolnaya Street, in the presence of a gendarmerie captain and two policemen. As it turned out later, the reason for the search was a denunciation by a provocateur who served as a clerk in a tobacco shop, behind the partition of which we sometimes gathered" (p. 134). This was the second "turn" in his life, introducing him to the revolutionary events in Russia.

One of the bright, "amazing" impressions in the life of the writer was, by his own admission, the impression of the sea, which "conquered" him. He served as a sailor on merchant ships, visited many cities and countries, and saw many seas. I. Sokolov-Mikitov recalled that the events of the First World War found him far from his homeland, on the shores of the Aegean Sea, where he wandered without a penny in his pocket around the Chalcedon Peninsula, near the legendary Olympus. "I returned to Russia by sea when the First World War was already raging over the world. This First World War, which shook the foundations of the old world, became the third test of life" (p. 137).

Then, having lived for a short time in the village, he went to the front as a volunteer, served in sanitary detachments, flew the first Russian heavy bomber, the Ilya Muromets, commanded by G.V. Alekhnovich is one of the first famous pilots in Russia. During the war, Ivan Sergeevich continued to write and occasionally published in literary collections and magazines.

He met the February Revolution at the front. Later, Sokolov-Mikitov recalled how, as a deputy from front-line soldiers, he arrived "in revolutionary Petrograd, flooded with red flags." Here he met the October Revolution; in the hall of the Tauride Palace he listened to Lenin's speech; here, in the editorial office of Novaya Zhizn, he met A.M. Gorky and other writers who were kind to his creative experiments, for the first time began to seriously think about what soon determined his life, became his fate ... "The revolution became my fourth and final turning point in my life: I became a writer" (Memoirs, 137, v. 4). At that time he was twenty-five years old.

Origins: folklore and "Russian nature"

I. Sokolov-Mikitov himself admitted that one of the main and first sources of his work was Russian folklore, Russian folk tales, which he knew well from childhood, loved, in which he drew inspiration. Over the years, he created the cycle "Naughty Tales", in which the writer "in his own language" told some well-known fairy tale motifs, developed them, used well-known ones and created new images. fairytale heroes. Work on fairy tales was a school for him, in which he learned the beautiful figurative Russian language, the ability to tell artlessly and simply, build a plot, combine fantasy, fiction with subtle and deep observations on life, human psychology, with his wise attitude to genuine moral and spiritual values.

At the same time, Sokolov-Mikitov definitely and unequivocally declared himself as a follower of the realistic school. During these years, he creates a cycle of stories about the war. He writes that he knows well what he saw and heard himself, so his stories often look like sketches, essays, correspondence. The author's commentary in them, as a rule, is minimal, philosophical reflections are rare and stingy. At the same time, the main thing for the writer is to convey the state of the soul.

The nerve of the military stories of I.S. Sokolova-Mikitova - thoughts about Russia, about the Russian character. There is pain and pride, but behind all this is the desire for truth. In the story "Here and There" the writer reflects on "Russian nature": "God knows what to say, but to be firm in deeds"; "to scold the cause and curse, but at the same time carry it to the end uncompromisingly, despite troubles and misfortunes" (p. 13).

In the stories "Cuckoo's Children", " Winged words"," Whisper of flowers", "Calm before the storm" are many episodes in which the spiritual generosity of a Russian person, his dedication, an irresistible craving for beauty are revealed.

"No people"

Being on long sea voyages, on the fronts of the First World War, Ivan Sergeevich listened to what was happening in Russia. He accepted the revolution - first the February, and then the October - with enthusiasm, realizing the necessity and beneficialness of changes, but also well aware of the difficulties that the new government faces ... About one of these difficulties is the story "Desolation". "There are no people - that's what I understood. Conscientious, conscious people who understand the threatening situation of the country and the revolution." "The great misfortune of Russia, worse than hunger - desertion" (p. 45, 47).

In 1923, the journal Rossiya published his Letters from the Village, which contained interesting observations about the village in the first post-revolutionary years. "The ends were strangely mixed up: the twenty-first century was mixed up with the sixteenth century," notes Sokolov-Mikitov (p. 70). In this mixture, there is inevitably a lot of superficial, superficial, which, in turn, negatively affects the language itself. "Time covered the village with verbal rubbish - and a woman in a consumer shop, choosing a chintz, no longer says to the clerk-godfather: "Kum Arsenya, give me a better chintz"; the woman says: "It is advisable to take an energetic chintz." In the executive committee ... the chairman says to secretary Kuzka, to the prank guy: "Edit, Kuzka, a piece of paper" (p. 70). "Life is new, life is old - where can I find words ?!" - the author exclaims (p. 71). When reading "Letters ..." one involuntarily recalls the characters of satirical works .Mayakovsky, D. Bedny, short stories and short stories by M. Zoshchenko, M. Bulgakov.

"Sea" stories

In the same 1920s, I. Sokolov-Mikitov developed a whole layer of stories and works of other genres, which reflected the "marine" period of his life, numerous wanderings around the world, travels.

He is excited by distant countries, he admires the beauties, landscapes; he is shaken by such simple and eternal values as the sun, earth, sea, birds; he does not get tired of admiring all the changing splendor of nature day and night, at sunrise and sunset ...

The world of sea stories is both romantic and realistic at the same time. Romance emanates from the heroes' craving for travel, during which the world expands, surprises with its diversity, beauty - a real discovery, comprehension of the world takes place.

The heroes of Sokolov-Mikitov are ordinary working people, sailors, loaders, men and women, Russians and British, Greeks and Turks - a whole gallery of artistic images created with varying degrees of expressiveness, remembered either by their unusualness, eccentricity, or characteristic, typicality. Most of the scenes are visible, tangible, the portraits are embossed, as if embossed on a medallion.

The author of the stories shows a deep and lively interest in those countries and peoples that pass before his eyes, which he meets when entering foreign ports - these are the ports of Africa, the Mediterranean countries, with their midday heat, the spicy smells of oriental bazaars, and the ports of England, Holland, other countries.

The hero has been swimming away from his native shores for years, walking along the streets and squares of foreign ports and cities - and the dream of returning to Russia remains always longed for by the author himself and his compatriot heroes. Memories of childhood and youth, of parents and friends, are pulling home; in dreams he sees Russian fields and gardens, a river where he fished, roads, forests - the whole world of peace and quiet that is stored in the soul and serves as an inexhaustible reservoir in the difficult years of wandering. Events, disturbing and joyful, are also pulling home.

True to his creative manner, style, Sokolov-Mikitov, as a rule, does not build complex plots, intricacies, does not go into deep philosophical reasoning and psychological depths of his characters. It is limited to a restrained, stingy record of events, a brief author's commentary; here, it seems, much remains behind the scenes ... But in the very manner of narration, devoid of external showiness and significance, the inner energy and tension of the unsaid is hidden, which pushes the reader's imagination, helps him "finish" a lot of things himself, as if participating in the process of creating an artistic image, a bit of plot.

Restraint of intonation, unhurried external action, keen observation, fullness of the word, harmony of the hidden and perceived in the depicted - these are just some of the characteristic features of I. Sokolov-Mikitov's prose, his style, without understanding which a meaningful attitude to the artist is impossible, the real value of his work.

Ivan and the fog

The most notable work of Sokolov-Mikitov in the 1920s was the story Chizhikov Lavra (1926); it is also essentially autobiographical. There are several temporal layers in the story that interpenetrate one into another, enrich the narrative, help to penetrate into the spiritual world of the hero, to better understand the very origins of his character, his worldview. And here an important role is played by the hero's memories of his childhood, youth, of those years that precede his emigrant odyssey. These memories of the past as of a lost paradise torment him, but also help him to survive, to survive in a foreign country. They are the solid foundation on which the building of his personality, his relationship with the world is built. They are like a litmus test that determines the most important life values that guide the hero in his adult life.

Most of the story is devoted to the life of the protagonist - Ivan in England. He is upset that the British know offensively little about Russia. Peering into his surroundings, noticing the new, unusual, Ivan becomes even more aware of himself, his belonging to Russia, to everything Russian. And now he is even more convinced: "there is something in a Russian person - no matter how you dress, from afar you can see that he is Russian" (p. 157).

Homesickness is perhaps the main, persistent pain of the hero. She constantly reminds of herself, suffocates him - sometimes worse, angrier than "consumption" - truly "at least with her head on a joint." This melancholy devalues, distorts everything "local"; from this, sometimes the most ordinary gives rise to inadequate feelings, unexpected irritation ...

With the coming to power of the Bolsheviks in Russia, the attitude towards Russians abroad worsened even more: "They threw us out of the yard like a thin cattle" (p. 159). There was no permanent job, there was not enough money to pay for housing; "And suddenly, as if with a hoof in my forehead:" I'm disappearing! sometime in the Siberian taiga... No one will even notice, not a single point will move. It became so frightening to me then that even with my head on a stone "(185).

The key here is the image of a wall that separates a person from the world, from society, from his own kind, it is a symbol of a person’s complete alienation from the world around him, the inability to resist circumstances, just survive in these conditions. In many respects, another image, often found on the pages of the story, performs a similar function - the image of fog. It becomes a capacious artistic metaphor, meaning the vagueness, opacity of the surrounding world, the vagueness of the life goals of a person cut off from his homeland, who has lost touch with the root system of his people. "There were such fogs! People walked like fish in a muddy pond. And the city was terrible, invisible and deadly yellow" (p. 186).

"Own" and "foreign", "with us" and "with them" - one of the constant, cross-cutting motifs of the narrative, the principles of identifying a person who is in emigration. With his mind, Ivan notes a lot of useful, reasonable in the orders and customs of foreigners, he is ready to accept a lot - but the soul, the heart rise up, reject. Memory paints the whole past in nostalgic tones, prevents you from fitting into the “local”┘

Various Russian people ended up abroad. The writer creates a whole gallery of types, characters, talks about human destinies - all of them in one way or another are connected with the revolution, with the changes that have recently taken place in Russia. Often the author only sketches a colorful portrait with a few strokes, without developing in detail this or that storyline, one or another drawing of the image. However, these few touches are enough to outline a unique character. Almost each of them has its own "oddity", its own peculiarity - attractive or repulsive, but as a result, we are presented with a rather motley and in many respects characteristic "mixture" of persons, a kind of panopticon of types that made up the Russian emigration of those distant years.

Quiet classic

There were still years and decades of hard creative work ahead, moments of insight and upsurges, hours and days of doubt and despair - everything that the life of a Russian artist is full of, living one life with the people, with his country.

I. Sokolov-Mikitov did not shy away from sensitive topics, actual problems, often wrote on the "live trail" of events in the center of which he found himself. But at the same time, he retained a special, quiet tone of voice, artificial, superficial pathos was alien to him. He was often criticized for the passivity of the hero, for insufficiently clear and precise author's position, for the fact that his work is allegedly aloof from the main, "main path" of Soviet literature ...

After the death of Sokolov-Mikitov, 30 years have passed, the former reproaches have become a thing of the past, have lost their relevance, but our time does not show due interest in this "quiet", "forgotten classic". Silence is needed to read it peace of mind, faith in a person, his destiny on earth, we need a non-vain, relentless love for the motherland, for Russia - all this was with I.S. Sokolov-Mikitov in full measure. And it remains to believe that his time will definitely come.

Introduction

From childhood, from school, each of us gets used to the phrase "love for the motherland." We realize this love much later, and to understand such a complex feeling - that is, what exactly and why we love - is given to us already in adulthood.

This feeling is really complex: here is the native culture, and native history, all the past and all the future of the people. Without going into deep reasoning, we can say that one of the first places in the complex feeling of love for the motherland is love for the native nature.

Someone loves the steppe, someone - the mountains, someone - the sea coast, smelling of fish, and someone - the native Central Russian nature, the quiet beauties of the river with yellow water lilies and white lilies, and that the lark sang over the rye field, and that birdhouse on a birch in front of the porch.

But it must be said that the feeling of love for our native nature does not arise in us by itself, spontaneously, since we were born and grew up among nature, it was brought up in us by literature, painting, music, by all those great teachers who lived before us, loved their native land and passed on their love to us, the descendants.

Don't we remember from childhood by heart the best lines about the nature of Pushkin, Lermontov, Nekrasov, Alexei Tolstoy, Tyutchev, Fet? Do they leave us indifferent, do they not teach the descriptions of nature from Turgenev, Aksakov, Leo Tolstoy, Prishvin, Leonov, Paustovsky. Among these glorious teachers, the name of the remarkable Russian writer Ivan Sergeevich Sokolov-Mikitov occupies a worthy place.

Ivan Sergeevich Sokolov-Mikitov was born in 1892 on the land of Smolensk, and his childhood passed among the very Russian nature. At that time, folk customs, rituals, holidays, way of life and way of life were still alive. Shortly before his death, Ivan Sergeevich wrote about that time and about that world like this : “My life began in native peasant Russia. This Russia was my real homeland. I listened to peasant songs; ... I remember a merry hayfield, a village field sown with rye, narrow fields, blue cornflowers along the borders ... I remember how, dressed in festive sundresses, women and girls went out to eat ripe rye, scattered in colorful bright spots across the golden clean field, how they celebrated zazhinki. The first sheaf was entrusted to be squeezed by the most beautiful hard-working woman - a good, smart housewife ... This was the world in which I was born and lived, this was Russia, which Pushkin knew, Tolstoy knew.

Sokolov - Mikitov entered literature with his small homeland - the Smolensk forest side, with its river Ugra and the unique charm of the discreet and, in his own words, as if shy beauty of his father's places, deeply perceived by him at the time of his simple village childhood.

But it is difficult to call him only "Smolensk writer", "singer of the Smolensk region". The point is not only that the thematic range of his work is immeasurably wider and more diverse than “regional material”, but mainly that, in terms of its general and basic sound, his work, having its source in a small homeland, belongs to the big Motherland, the great Soviet land, and now great Russia with its vast expanses, incalculable wealth and diverse beauty - from north to south, from the Baltic to the Pacific coast.

A traveler in the recognition of youth and a wanderer in the circumstances of a difficult life fate, I.S. Sokolov-Mikitov, who has seen many distant lands, southern and northern seas and lands, carried the indelible memory of his native Smolensk region everywhere. He remains for his reader a native of the distant places of the Central Russian strip, a man whom the reader recognizes, as they say, "by pronunciation." And perhaps this feature informs the stories and essays of I.S. Sokolov - Mikitov that sincere, confidential intonation, which so captivates and disposes the reader to him, and the work of our writer - fellow countryman is again relevant. It is close to Aksakov's, Turgenev's, and Bunin's manner. However, his works have their own special world: not third-party observation, but live communication with the surrounding life.

About Ivan Sergeevich in the encyclopedia it is said as follows: « Russian Soviet writer, sailor, traveler, hunter, ethnographer. And although there is a point further, we can continue: a teacher, a revolutionary, a soldier, a journalist, a polar explorer. It's just so unique life experience lies at the heart of his work.

The works of I.S. Sokolova - Mikitova, in fairness, occupy a prominent place on the shelves of any library, public and private. They are written in a melodious, rich and at the same time very simple language. They are dear to everyone who cherishes the treasury of wonderful Russian speech, the wealth of Soviet literature.

His books are not only a lyrical diary of hunting and travel wanderings, written by an inspired artist of the Russian narrative word. This is a story about a rich and fruitful life, illuminated by love for nature and for the people of their native Russian land.

Topic of my essay“I.S. Sokolov-Mikitov and the Smolensk Region. I really liked some of the author's works, so I wanted to know more about this person: what was he like? How did he live? What did he write about?

The purpose of my abstract istrace the stages of life and work of I.S. Sokolov-Mikitov in the Smolensk region.

Tasks:

1. Get acquainted with the autobiography of I.S. Sokolova - Mikitov;

Consider the creative heritage of I.S. Sokolov - Mikitov of the Smolensk period;

Assess the contribution of I.S. Sokolova - Mikitov in the development of the Smolensk region;

The following publications helped me in my research work:

1. Literature of the Smolensk region. Textbook - an anthology on literary local history. Grade 9 - Volume 2.

Smirnov V.A. Ivan Sokolov - Mikitov: an essay on life and writing.

Sokolov - Mikitov I.S. On your own land.

4. Sokolov - Mikitov I.S. "Autobiographical Notes".

1. Life path of I.S. Sokolova-Mikitova

.1 Writer's childhood

Ivan Sergeevich Sokolov - Mikitov was born on May 30, 1892 in the family of an honorary citizen, manager of the forest lands of wealthy Moscow merchants Konshins - Sergey Nikitievich and Maria Ivanovna Sokolov.

The Sokolov family lived in Oseky (near Kaluga) for three years. Then my father's elder brother, who also served with the Konshins, came from the Smolensk province and persuaded him to move to his homeland.

The writer spent his childhood in the pre-revolutionary village of Kislovo, among his native Russian nature, in communication with the people, in the circle of ordinary affairs and concerns of the village people. And these first impressions of childhood forever left in the boy's soul a deep and unquenchable love for his native land, for working people, for the generosity, kindness and generosity of the Russian heart.

The boy grew up in the midst of abundant, almost untouched nature, surrounded by simple-hearted, kind and hardworking people who heartily rejoiced at every guest, trustingly sharing shelter and table with every passerby and traveler. The first, most vivid impressions were the impressions of folk festivals, colorful rural fairs. The first words heard are folk vivid expressions, the first tales are folk oral tales, the first music is peasant songs.

The future writer inherited love for his native language, for figurative folk speech from his mother. Maria Ivanovna, a semi-literate peasant woman, a spiritually sensitive and caring woman, amazed everyone with her amazing knowledge of her native language, folk tales, fables and jokes; Every word in her speech was in place. She knew how to speak simply and clearly for everyone. “Each word in her speech was always in place, always had its own special meaning and knowledge,” Ivan Sergeevich recalled, “until the end of her days she surprised her interlocutors with wealth folk words knowledge of proverbs and sayings.

Ivan Sergeevich's father was a gentle, kind and sympathetic person to human grief. He brought up the same qualities in his son, from childhood teaching him to be honest and fair, hardworking and inquisitive. Very often he took the boy with him on business trips and hunting. These trips and walks with the father were real holidays for the child. He loved to listen to his father's amusing stories about the forest and forest dwellers, his merry tales full of extraordinary adventures and unseen miracles. The more the boy grew up, the closer and clearer his father became to him - his first friend and mentor. .

Ivan had a significant influence on his "godfather", his father's elder brother. Ivan Nikitich Mikitov was a knowledgeable, well-read man, to whom people from distant volosts came for advice. Even in his youth, he served in the Smolensk estate of the Pogodins (in the Elninsk district), where the famous Russian historian M.P. Pogodin. The young quick-witted clerk fell in love with the old man Pogodin, and he took him to Moscow more than once. Under the influence of Pogodin, the “godfather” treated books with respect, and the names of great Russian writers were sacred in their home.

Happy, bright days of childhood, constant communication with nature, knowledge of the life of the people - all this could not but affect the work of Sokolov-Mikitov. “I owe the lyrical property of my talent to the rural world, the ordinary people around me, Russian native nature,” he later wrote in Autobiographical Notes.

1.2 Studying at the Smolensk real school

When the boy was ten years old, his father took him to Smolensk and assigned him to the Alexander Real School. “From the usual forest silence, from the hunting freedom dear to the heart and homely calm comfort,” Ivan Sergeevich said, “I ended up in a noisy bustling city, in the monotonous, state-owned atmosphere of the school.”

Life in the city, daily visits to a dull school seemed to him hard labor. The happiest time was the trip home, to the village, for the winter and summer holidays.

The young man studied mediocrely and only in two subjects - natural science and drawing, which he really loved - invariably received good marks. From the fourth grade, he became interested in theater, although he did not differ in any acting abilities, he acted as an extra in various troupes that came to Smolensk on tour.

The stay of Sokolov-Mikitov at the school coincided with a difficult time for Russia - with the defeat of the first Russian revolution and the gloomy period of reaction that followed. Naturally, the young man, whose sympathies were always on the side of the oppressed and disadvantaged, could not remain indifferent to the turbulent political events. He openly admired people who were trying to fight the reaction, visited secret gatherings of revolutionary youth, and read with interest the lines of revolutionary leaflets and proclamations. On the denunciation of a provocateur, the police searched his room, and "on suspicion of belonging to student revolutionary organizations" Sokolov-Mikitov was expelled from the fifth grade of the school with a "wolf ticket".

The expulsion from the school was the biggest turning point in the life of Ivan Sergeevich. From death, from abundant sad fate many desperate young people were saved by his nature, the sensitivity and love of his father, who helped him in a difficult hour of his life to maintain faith in people, in himself and in his strength.

After being expelled from the school for about a year, Ivan Sergeevich in his native Kislovo read a lot and voraciously. With books under his head, covered in an old coat reeking of horse sweat, he slept in the open air, in the garden.

Communicating with people, Ivan Sergeevich thought a lot, pondered. The words were sharply remembered, the talent of the common people, the richness of the national language, amazed. With youthful ardor, he painfully experienced injustice, inequality of people, felt the sharpness of contrasts: poverty and wealth, hunger and contentment. And he got to know and saw more and more the diverse, very complex and many-sided life of the village, so little known to the people of the city.

.3 Studying in St. Petersburg and fateful acquaintances

In 1910, Sokolov-Mikitov arrived in St. Petersburg, where he entered four-year private agricultural courses, the only educational institution, where they were accepted without certificates and without “certificates of political reliability”.

However, he did not feel much attraction to agronomy and devoted all his free time to reading the books of the historian Pogodin and Leo Tolstoy, Gorky and Bunin, who were popular in those years by A. Remizov, who had become fond of back in Smolensk. In the works of A. Remizov, Ivan Sergeevich met with the world of folk tales, so familiar to him from childhood. He tries to write himself. Decides to quit courses and take up literature. This was facilitated by the ensuing literary acquaintances.

Once in a small tavern on Rybatskaya Street, which was willingly visited by students and journalists, Sokolov-Mikitov met a famous traveler - naturalist Z.F. Svatosh and, despite the difference in age, quickly became friends with him. They shared a common love of nature and a passion for travel. Upon learning that the young man was writing, Svatosh introduced him to famous writer Alexander Grin, and somewhat later with A.I. Kuprin, with whom Sokolov-Mikitov established warm friendly relations.

A. Green was one of the first who taught Sokolov-Mikitov to love and understand the sea, which later took a firm place in his life and work. He knew many of Kuprin's stories by heart, learned from them a living language, precise and concise, captivating the reader with the power and freshness of its colors.

Acquainted with the owner of the "Revel sheet" Lippo, Sokolov-Mikitov willingly accepted the offer to become an employee of his newspaper and in the winter of 1912 he moved to Revel as editorial secretary. At first, newspaper work completely captured the novice writer - he works as a feuilletonist, secretary of the editorial board, daily composes editorials, correspondence on a variety of topics, and acts as the author of short stories and essays.

Reval in those days was a fairly busy seaport. Life near the sea further exacerbated the desire for distant wanderings.

The deacon from the church of St. Nicholas Morsky, who brought notes to the newspaper, having learned about Sokolov-Mikitov's passion for the sea, through connections at the naval headquarters helps him get a job as a sailor on the Mighty messenger ship. On it, Sokolov-Mikitov goes on his first voyage. The impression from him was amazing, it approved the young man in his decision to become a sailor and laid the foundation for his sea wanderings.

Sokolov - Mikitov traveled almost all the seas and oceans, visited Turkey, Egypt, Syria, Greece, England, Italy, the Netherlands, Africa. He is young, full of strength and health: “It was the most happy time my youthful life, when I met and got acquainted with ordinary people, and my heart trembled from the fullness and joy of feeling the expanses of the earth. And wherever he was, wherever his sailor's fate threw him, he was primarily interested in the life of ordinary working people.

With a warm feeling, he later recalled those years, when "the heart trembled from the fullness and joy of feeling the expanses of the earth." This is how his “sea stories” were born, in which there is so much sun, salty wind, landscapes, foreign coasts, the noise of oriental bazaars, living portraits of people with whom everyday labor craft brought together.

The First World War caught Sokolov-Mikitov on a foreign voyage. With great difficulty he managed to return to Russia. Upon his return, he spent several months with his relatives in the Smolensk region, and at the beginning of 1915 he returned to Petrograd. There is a war and the young man decides to go to the front, for which he enters the courses of the brothers of mercy. However, the young man still devotes all his leisure time to literary pursuits.

In 1916, in the literary and artistic collection "Gingerbread", published by A.D. Baranovskaya in favor of orphaned children, stories by I.S. Sokolova - Mikitova "Spring Hurry", "Cuckoo's Children". In this collection, which consisted of works by minor and little-known writers, such writers as A. Blok, S. Yesenin, A. Akhmatova also took part.

In the same 1916, the first fairy tale by Sokolov - Mikitov "Salt of the Earth" was published. Written based on Russian folklore, it revealed the eternal theme of people's happiness, expressed the writer's aspirations for a time when everything dark and evil on earth disappears in the rays of the setting sun.

In addition to this big topic, there was another one in the fairy tale - that all phenomena in nature are interconnected and it is impossible to violate the harmony of this relationship, since one without the other is doomed to death: “where there is water, there is a forest, and where the forest is cut down, there and the water dries up.

After leaving the courses, Sokolov - Mikitov volunteers to join the army. He is appointed as an orderly in the sanitary and transport detachment of the Princess of Saxe-Altenburg, in which pro-German sentiments reign. The command did not hesitate to indulge overt and covert German agents. Sokolov-Mikitov was openly indignant at the betrayal and, after several skirmishes with his superiors, was expelled from the detachment.

After graduating from the courses of aircraft mechanics, he ends up in the Squadron of Air Ships as a junior minder on the Ilya Muromets bomber, commanded by a famous pilot, Smolensk countryman Gleb Vasilyevich Alekhnovich.

In the essay "Glebushka", written in the newspaper "Birzhevye Vedomosti", Sokolov-Mikitov wrote about his commander: "Many aviators became aviators on fu - fu, because of fashion, by accident. Glebushka has bird blood. Glebushka was born in a bird's nest, he was destined to fly. Take away the song from the poet, the flying from Glebushka - both will wither.

Sokolov-Mikitov was one of the first Russian writers at the dawn of aeronautics, developing a "flight landscape" in literature. He gave an artistic description of the earth from a bird's eye view, spoke about the extraordinary sensations of the conquerors of the sky: “Flying is swimming, only there is no water: you look down, as you looked at the cloudy sky overturned in the mirror surface. This is the awakening of the "bird" in a person, giving a feeling of extraordinary happiness, a prehistoric memory of the time when a person flew on his own wings over a dense land covered with water and forests.

After the February Revolution, I.S. Sokolov - Mikitov, as a deputy from front-line soldiers, arrives in Petrograd. He is transferred to the 2nd Baltic naval crew. Throughout the summer and autumn of 1917, he lives in Petrograd, by the will of fate finding himself in the thick of political events. He speaks at soldiers' rallies and talks about the ugly truth of the war, prints front-line essays and sketches in progressive newspapers and magazines. At the same time, he willingly attends literary debates, continues to meet with A. Green and M. Prishvin.

M. Prishvin worked in the newspaper "Will of the People" and edited the literary supplement "Russia in the Word", in which Sokolov-Mikitov was also invited to collaborate. Constant communication with each other, disputes about educational value literature, a negative attitude towards the war, which both saw with their own eyes, considered hostile to man, and therefore hostile to life in general - all this brought the writers even closer, strengthened their relationship.

In the hot October days, Sokolov-Mikitov, captured by revolutionary events, listens to V.I. Lenin in the Tauride Palace, meets with A.M. Gorky. Gorky was sympathetic to his literary experiments, helped with good advice, and since then it has been clear to Ivan Sergeevich that literature is the main business of his life.

The revolution was the final turning point in his life: Sokolov-Mikitov became a writer. He embodied his relentless wanderlust, his keen interest in the people he met on the paths of life, in the precise and expressive prose of a passionate and captivating narrator. Bottomless wanderings in foreign lands with an inextinguishable longing for the homeland in his soul gave him material for "Chizhikova Lavra" - a sad story about people abandoned to a foreign land by the force of various circumstances.

An excellent knowledge of the Russian Smolensk village - both in its pre-revolutionary times and in the early years of the October formation - is captured in a whole series of stories about the people of the old new soul, about the fundamental changes taking place in the rural wilderness, about the struggle of contradictory and hostile principles in the mind of her residents. The author says this about this period of his creative biography: “In those years, I was very closely connected with the village, hunted, wandered a lot with a gun and wrote down something, jokingly and seriously,“ from nature. As always, I was struck by the resilience of a Russian person, his natural humor, intelligence, penchant for fiction.

At the beginning of 1918, Sokolov-Mikitov was demobilized and left for the Smolensk region. He looked with interest at the new things that entered the life of the village, significantly changing its appearance.

With a gun over his shoulders, he wandered along the forest roads of his native land, willingly visited the surrounding villages, noting and writing down everything that would later serve as material for such cycles of stories as “On the River Bride”, “Along forest paths"and a kind of" Records of ancient years ".

In 1919, Sokolov-Mikitov taught at the Dorogobuzh city incomplete high school Smolensk region, where he moved with his family. Despite the lack of teaching experience, he quickly became friends with the guys. In the literature classes, he spoke very clearly and meaningfully about the works of the classics of Russian literature, and also talked about overseas countries and funny hunting adventures.

He really wanted to create a real children's magazine in which children directly participate: they write, draw and edit themselves. He was fascinated by the idea of organizing a "children's commune", fascinated so much that he wrote in the utmost short time carried out the publication of a small booklet "Istok - the city", in which he defended and developed the idea of harmonious education of youth.

This little book, according to the writer, could start his teaching career, but, feeling that he lacked knowledge, experience and skills, he abandoned the idea of becoming a teacher. He was drawn to wander again, he wanted to see the sea, which he missed all this time.

In the spring of 1919, at the invitation of a comrade and classmate, Smolensk fellow countryman Grisha Ivanov, as representatives of the “Predprodelzassevfront”, they went south in their own caravan to the grain regions. More than once travelers were on the verge of death. In Melitopol, they miraculously escaped from the clutches of the Makhnovists who had seized the city, near Kyiv they were captured by the Petliurists, and were in the counterintelligence of Denikin's General Bredov.

Sokolov-Mikitov barely managed to get into the Crimea and become a sailor on a small old ship "Dykh-Tau". Sea wanderings began again. Again he visited many Asian, African, European ports.

At the end of 1920, on the ocean-going ship "Omsk", loaded with cotton

seed, Sokolov - Mikitov went to England. When "Omsk" arrived in

Gul, it turned out that the self-proclaimed White Guard authorities secretly

sailors sold the ship to the British, and Sokolov - Mikitov, along with

his comrades, Russian sailors, ended up in a foreign inhospitable country without a livelihood.

Ivan Sergeevich lived in England for more than a year. Without a permanent job and a roof over his head, he wandered around the doss-houses, interrupting by odd jobs, he learned from his own bitter experience of the injustice and hostility of a world alien to him.

In the spring of 1921, he managed to move from England to Germany, to Berlin, which was overflowing with Russian emigrants.

In 1922, A.M. came to Berlin from Russia. Bitter. To him, as an eyewitness of the latest events in the homeland, emigrants reached out. Together with A.N. Tolstoy went to Gorky and Sokolov - Mikitov. Gorky approved Sokolov-Mikitov's intention to leave for Russia at the first opportunity and promised to assist him. And in the summer of that year Required documents were received, and Sokolov-Mikitov, with Gorky's letter to Fedin, left for Russia on a small German steamboat.

In the summer of 1929, together with the explorers of the North, he was on an expedition to the Arctic Ocean (cycles "White Shores" and "At the End of the Earth"), in 1930 on Franz Josef Land, in the winter of 1931 - 32. - in the expedition organized to rescue the wrecked icebreaker "Malygin" ("Ship Rescue"), in 1933 - in the Murmansk and Northern Territories, participated in the expedition to raise the icebreaker "Sadko" in the Kandalaksha Bay, which sank in 1916.

In a word, wherever courage, firmness, perseverance of character are clearly manifested in the struggle against harsh nature, he, following the call of his indefatigable nature in search of nature and writing duty, was always in the forefront. True friend conquerors of still few developed spaces, he is with them in the untrodden taiga with a hunting rifle behind his back, and in the cockpit, and in the huts of winterers in the far North.

In March 1941, Sokolov-Mikitov settled in the village of Morozovo, not far from Leningrad, where the war found him. Ivan Sergeevich, not accepted by age into the militia, remained to while away the hunger and cold in the village.

In June 1942, he had to evacuate with his family to the Urals, where Sokolov-Mikitov settled in Perm and served in the forestry department. During the evacuation, he prepared and submitted to the publishing house a collection of stories and essays “Over the Bright River”, essays “On the Ground” and “Evdokia Ivanovna's Day” and others.

.4 The last years of the writer's life

The last twenty years of I.S. Sokolova - Mikitov were associated with the Kalinin region. Here, in Karacharovo on the Volga, a hundred paces from the water, on the edge of the forest, stood his simple log house. Very often guests came to the writer, his friends - writers, travelers, polar explorers. [Annex 6]

In the last years of his life, the writer willingly returns to the theme of the Russian village of the pre-revolutionary and transitional times - to folk tales, records of conversations with the toilers of the earth, to concise and well-aimed sketches of meetings, conversations, to portraits and speech characteristics.

In 1965-1966 4 volumes of the collected works of I.S. Sokolov - Mikitov, which included all the most significant, created by the writer for more than fifty years of his literary activity.

By the mid-sixties, finding himself in almost complete darkness due to loss of vision, Ivan Sergeevich did not stop working. He could not write, he did not see the lines, but his memory still remained bright. The disks of the recording apparatus were spinning, the muffled voice of the writer sounded over the table. The words lay down on the tape. [ Annex 7]

In 1969, his book "At Bright Origins" was published, in 1970 - "Selected", as well as new books for children.

For fruitful literary activity I.S. Sokolov-Mikitov was awarded two Orders of the Red Banner of Labor and medals.

Ivan Sergeevich Sokolov-Mikitov died on February 20, 1975 in Moscow. The funeral was modest, without an orchestra and big loud speeches: he did not like them even during his lifetime.

A hundred days later, his wife, Lidia Ivanovna, died. Their ashes were buried in one grave near Leningrad (now St. Petersburg).

Ivan Sergeevich Sokolov - Mikitov passed a difficult life path. But from all the trials he came out mentally and spiritually stronger.

A traveler by the vocation of youth and a wanderer by the circumstances of a difficult life fate, I.S. Sokolov-Mikitov, who has seen many distant lands, southern and northern seas and lands, carried with him everywhere the indelible memory of his native Smolensk region.

2. Creativity I.S. Sokolova - Mikitova

.1 "Elen". "Childhood"

Mikitov writer work

In the stories “Elen” and “Childhood”, Ivan Sergeevich tried to recall that old village, which “now no longer exists on Smolensk land”, that way of life and thoughts of the villagers that was on the eve of the “big break of the old”. It was as if he was examining the past from all sides for the last time, perhaps remembering his own words, expressed a little later, in one of the books: “Unable to look into the past, we will not learn to see the future.”

The story "Elen"- a combination of two stories about the family of the landowner Dmitry Khludov and the family of the peasant - forester Frol, supplemented by short stories about peasants and the small estate nobility, stories in which Khludov and Frol are direct or indirect participants. The life of the forester Frol alone with nature and the destruction of the forests by the Khludovs - this opposition is, as it were, a hidden engine, an internal unifying idea of the story. The lyrical tonality of previous works of similar themes in "Eleni" is colored with the tones of epic writing. In addition, "Elen" is literally permeated with a feeling of love for the people, the homeland, which are felt by the author organically spiritually - kindred.

Frol dies, and buries him in the village graveyard, and is this not a symbol: the strong, spiritually pure future of the village is parting with its past.

“Grey idols” (“Elen”) and “Men - raftsmen” (“Childhood”), Frol and forest land manager Sergei Nikitich, a young lady Kuzhalikha, ruined, “burnt” in the hungry year 1917 (“Elen”) and other characters stories have many common features. And the events themselves, unfolding in the story "Childhood", lead to the action taking place in "Eleni". Preparing the story for reprinting, Sokolov-Mikitov even considered them as a whole narrative, perhaps that is why the individual chapters and episodes of "Eleni" (chapter "Merry Fair"), repeating the content of "Childhood", were excluded by the writer and were not included in the four-volume collection his writings.

And although the hero of the story claims that he has nothing to regret from the past, he still “feels sorry only for the grouse broods, village songs and sundresses, which once filled a childish feeling of joy and love, which now cannot be returned by any means”, now in the Smolensk region " village young men and girls no longer drive on the mountain of round dances, ”rarely - rarely a sundress will appear on the street, and they will rarely play an old drawn-out song in the evening.”

I.S. Sokolov - Mikitov believed that Russian nature, depicted in a work of art, can become truly beautiful and attractive if it is adorned with a genuine human feeling; it all depends on the mood of the soul, which the artist who draws it has. Only he imprints in it national self-consciousness who, by virtue of his mental development, is able to connect the world in which he lives with the world of his own ideas and moods. Therefore, in Sokolov-Mikitov, man and nature are always interconnected, they act as equals in the living world. This determined the peculiar mood of the works of Sokolov - Mikitov for six decades. Already in his early stories, nature is the same protagonist as the man himself ("Glushaki", "Honey Hay").

A man in his relations with the world, nature, a kind man on a good land, a dreamer with a romantic mindset - such is the hero of the stories of Sokolov - Mikitov of the twenties.

.2 Honey Hay

In the story "Honey Hay" by I.S. Sokolov - Mikitov told, in essence, a very sad story of the illness and death of a village girl Tonka, who had a difficult fate.

After a ruinous trip to Siberia for a better share, her father Fedor Sibiryak died. Her mother, Marya, after the death of her husband, in the most hungry time, found courage and strength in herself - she resisted, survived and saved her children from starvation, but from need and grief she became deaf and stupid. And Tonka had to harness herself to work. And although God didn’t offend Tonka with beauty, no article, no good character, he didn’t give a share, Tonka couldn’t get married - the widow’s yard was poor.

Ever since the winter, she had been traveling with the village across the river to the forest to raise a firewood from the snow, tossing and turning in the forest, on a par with the peasants, overstrained herself, began to dry, and has since fallen ill. Every day she felt how the near end was approaching her, and said goodbye to the whole world around her: she was waiting for the spring sun, she saw spring for the last time. Tonka said goodbye to household chores: she did everything as long as she had strength - she spun in the winter, pulled a tow with her thin fingers, peeled potatoes, prepared her death, as she used to prepare a dowry.

Tonkino's life behavior before death is not sacrifice, she really wanted to live, but a sober understanding by a simple village girl of her uselessness in life. Saying goodbye to life, she did not fall into despair, but admired the spring riot of greenery - warmth, the sun, pouring rye in the fields and the honey smell of hay. “She sat for a long time under the birches, saying goodbye to the green world that gave birth to and nurtured her. And there were many in this sparkling, happy world like herself.

There are many other characters in the story: frank women who, not embarrassed and not afraid to sadden Tonka, told her about the early end; Tonkin's uncle Astakh, a shaggy, black and carefree man who scolds women for their frankness; Tonka's girlfriends, who, in order to please her, climbed the whole forest in search of raspberries; Tonkin's fiancé Oska, greedy for a dowry, drove off to Moscow; no one knows whether it was firewood, whether Oska put her in an illness. The village is full of life, and even on the graveyard where Tonka wanders, she is met by eternal life: “Under the birches above Ivan - yes - Marya, a yellow-bellied bumblebee buzzes, and yellow-lilac flowers sway under its weight”, from green young hay it causes honey warmed by the sun breezes. And when the worst happens, the day is so powerfully sunny and clear that death cannot overshadow it: “Cross the river, taking off your shoes, stepping along the cold bottom, covered with pebbles, playing with golden patterns ... The morning was golden; like an endless blue sea, the earth smoked and woke up. And the coffin of Tonka, swaying on the shoulders of the girls, seemed insignificantly small, completely drowned in the unsteady blue and shining world. And precisely in order to express all the power of this brilliant, spacious and forever indestructible world, larks were poured over the girls all the way, invisible in the high sky.

The writer pays tribute to the departed person, who, even in his mortal illness, could not “be left without care”, and did everything, “as long as there was strength”, for the benefit of people.

But the writer, like the people themselves, is not disarmed by loss, if it is natural. The earth and earthly concerns about life give him the strength to overcome grief in order to go forward along earthly roads and see the world in its joys.

In the landscape of I.S. Sokolova - Mikitova, where the writer, it would seem, is more free in fiction than anywhere else, we will never meet pretentiousness, the desire to amaze with unusualness: “Spring crops are ripening, and not all meadows have been harvested yet. Clean and clear morning. The web is flying. Cobwebs cover the ditches, the tops of unmowed, overripe grasses. Swallows swim high in the sky, swifts cut the air. Shreds of fog float over the lowland, over the quiet river overgrown with alder. Seeds of overripe grass stick to dew-drenched boots. From under the short stance of a pointing dog, a molted black grouse flies out with a bang - a kosach. High - high in the sky a hawk - a buzzard is bellowing. In the transparent silence of the morning, voices are heard.

The main feature of the Sokolov-Mikitov landscape, which came to him from the old Russian masters, is its subtle and precise subordination of the main idea. The landscape became part of the writer's ideological and artistic structure of the story, essay or story. Using seemingly simple artistic means, the writer achieved amazing results, he seemed to introduce the reader to the eternal and joyful life-creation, to the generous self-creating nature and the flow of folk life.

.3 "Kamchatka", "Gypsy"

The story "Kamchatka"about how the Smolensk peasants were going to go to Kamchatka. “There was such a rumor about the wonderful land of Kamchatka. In the village, the rumor runs untracked, like the wind in the forest, it stirs a little - the forest is already talking from edge to edge.

The writer with a kind smile tells us how the rumor about Kamchatka grew and spread, which was brought by the blacksmith Maxim, who traveled to the city for iron: “Here, my brothers, I saw a man at the station, a very faithful man, he told me that they had arrived at the station people call people to Kamchatka. They give fifty chervonets per snout, the road back and forth, and go through all of Siberia for two years. Sitnogo - as much as you want! And we need men in Kamchatka to dig gold. It's a simple matter."

The peasants caught fire, whether from the eternal longing of the Russian soul for paths and distances, or simply dashing boredom stuck, or the hope of a well-fed life and earnings beckoned (this winter, the peasants have served their asses to the blisters), and then state-owned grub - eat as much as you like, and business most trifling - to dig gold. Don't yawn, ah - yes, guys! Frantic, the village stirred: it was as if a demon had inserted sharp awls into the peasants. That day came, the peasants collected their wallets, took bread for a day - after all, grub is state-owned! - and ah - yes!

“It is not known how they went there. Only on the third day was my godfather and friend Vaska at home, and on the fourth day they still went hunting early - early. And when, having lured a deaf grouse to a whistle, with a successful hunt we stopped to rest under an old spruce and lit a fire, I learned the truth from Vaska.

We come, and there is nothing, no this office. The police were alarmed - they thought a gang was coming. "What are you?" - they ask. "To Kamchatka?" - "Yes!" - they say.
There were about fifty of us at the station, - Vaska continues, chewing fat, - we walk, rummage around. In the evening - bam! They surrounded us: “If you please, surrender!” They locked us in a shed, we were washed out for the night, and in the morning we were interrogated: “Why did you make a congestion?” Here we are all clean: “So and so, we say, we came to sign up for Kamchatka.” - “Beleny overeat?! What is Kamchatka? Well, they see for themselves, there is no gang here, all the people are peaceful, they laughed at us in the yards. “Go, they say, don’t be a fool, such ignorance is unacceptable during a revolution!” So they went out to spend the night.
Well, - smiling, I say to Vaska, - now you believe in Kamchatka?
And who knows, - Vaska answers seriously, - it's a simple matter! Heard - neither plow nor sow. Happy end!

“Suddenly it starts to seem to me that everything is possible, that somewhere there is, there is a fabulous happy land of Kamchatka,” the author concludes his story. The age-old desire for the "promised land", for the country "with milky rivers and jelly banks" is shown by the writer in this work of his.

In "small gypsy story"the writer reproduces the scene of lynching of a gypsy - a horse thief. Horse thieves appeared in the village. At the bald Gavrik, two horses were taken away from the yard. A week later, the men met two gypsies in the forest. One escaped along the way - the peasant cannot catch up with the gypsy in the field! And the other was brought to the village for trial and reprisal. Vaska Artyushkov went outside the gate and saw Kuzma Knyazkov running along the street, mouth wide open, and calling on all the horse thieves to be beaten. Behind Knyazkov - Grishka Evmenov, behind Grishka - Chugunok himself. Vaska, as he was, a fur coat on one shoulder - there. The people are in a heap. And one hears from the people: how and how! - like chopping wood. They beat the gypsy, threatened to kill him, asked where the horses were. He was silent, like a stone, They brought Lexa - he was “his own gypsies”, he nested in the village for twenty years, he knew everyone in the district, horse thieves. But Lexa did not help - on the contrary, he said that the gypsy should not betray his brother, even if you rip off the skin, even burn your heels, and walked away. They beat the horse thief until evening: that gypsy lay on the floor, face down, red bubbles on his beard. Finally, he confessed where the horses were. Only one rested - he did not name anyone accomplices. The men brought the horses without eating the horses for three days - skin and bones. Again they began to beat the gypsy. Furious peasants are already ready to kill him. After all, the horse thief is the eternal enemy of the peasant. But the gypsy, speaking, asked: "Let me go, brothers, I'll play the accordion for you!" They brought him an accordion. The gypsy wiped the blood on his muzzle with his palm, the accordion on his knee and along the frets - like silver. And the women came running to listen to the gypsy from all over the village. Gypsies played for an hour, played for two - until late in the dark night. For three days they did not let the gypsy women go. The gypsy got up ... and went. And so the gypsies left, and no one knew who was and where.

The gypsies left, but they remembered for a long time: oh, for such a game, it’s not a pity to forget two horses! And the very first sounds of music return the lost human form to the brutalized people. Cruelty and bitterness disappear, giving way to benevolence and respect for craftsmanship. The writer, as it were, says: a working person is by nature kind and grateful, receptive to the beautiful, and only the difficult, inhuman conditions of a disenfranchised existence in a society where a minority lives at the expense of the ruthless exploitation of the masses of the people give rise to anger and bitterness in him.

The tireless thirst for wandering around the expanses of the motherland, the desire to see more, learn more, communicate with people of various professions leads the writer as a tireless traveler in all directions of the geographical map. And everywhere this tireless tracker of uninhabited places - a wonderful connoisseur of animal and bird habits, a faithful comrade on the road and an inquisitive companion - remains a perceptive observer not only of the captivating climatic diversity of his dear homeland, but also a penetrating reflector of human destinies and characters. More can be said: a man of courageous and romantic professions - a geologist, pilot, sailor, polar explorer and discoverer - becomes the center of his writing interests.

The main artistic feature of I.S. Sokolova - Mikitova - to write about what they themselves lived in, entered the soul, warmed the heart. This is what explains the factual and psychological authenticity of his works, their poetic charm, which immediately captivates the reader.

Conclusion

When I read the works of I.S. Sokolova - Mikitova, not for a single moment does the feeling leave me that all the characters are friends - friends of the author, in any case, his good acquaintances, about whom he knows absolutely everything, but tells only the most important, expressing their human essence. Most of the stories are written in the first person. And it's not just literary device, and the author's guarantee for the complete truthfulness of what is being told.

I.S. Sokolov-Mikitov writes with restraint and conciseness. By mean pictorial means he conveys the finest movements human soul, reproduces discreet, but long-lasting pictures of Russian nature.

Like a good magician, the writer makes the most ordinary unremarkable suddenly visible and interesting. In his image, a simple spider turns into a “living precious stone” and remains in the child’s memory for a long time, and a modest wild flower acquires such an attractive force that you want to immediately go to a forest clearing to enjoy its gentle beauty, which, as if in passing, accidentally let you feel in his story, the writer. You read and wait: a woodpecker will knock over your head or a hare will jump out from under the table, so everything is great with him, really told.

From the books of Sokolov - Mikitov I learned a lot of interesting and useful things for myself. The writer introduces us to the world of nature, teaching us to look sharply into the surrounding life, to notice the patterns that underlie the most important life processes, and at the same time he never teaches. He simply teaches us to observe and be surprised at what suddenly opens our eyes.

The peculiarity of the writer's gift of Sokolov - Mikitov lies in the fact that the author does not invent, invent, does not look for complex plot constructions, but directly enters during life, talks about what really happened, tells about people and events that really existed or existing ones. But, like a true artist, he chooses and arranges circumstances in his own way, surrounds them with such a vividly drawn everyday and natural environment that everything that is most everyday and everyday becomes a phenomenon of highly human art, moreover, it is imbued with soft lyricism, as if glowing from within.

Books by Ivan Sergeevich Sokolov Mikitov are necessary for readers of any age. They have a huge supply of goodness and love for people, for nature, for the living charms of life. That is why the name of Ivan Sergeevich Sokolov Mikitov is not forgotten. In the village of Poldnevo, Ugransky district, a museum of the writer was opened.

Competitions named after Ivan Sergeevich Sokolov Mikitov are held. creative works among children dedicated to creativity I.S. Sokolov-Mikitov.

On February 2005, the Smolensk Regional Children's Library was named after the remarkable Russian writer, our countryman I.S. Sokolova-Mikitova .

Literature

.Literature of the Smolensk region. Textbook - an anthology on literary local history. Grade 9 - Volume 2. - Compilation. Methodical materials. G.S. Merkin. - Smolensk: TRAS - IMACOM, 1994. - 528 p.

Smirnov V.A. Ivan Sokolov - Mikitov: an essay on life and writing. - M. - Sov. Russia, 1983. - 144 p.
Sokolov - Mikitov I.S. On your own land. - Publishing house "Magenta", 2006.
Sokolov - Mikitov I.S. "Autobiographical Notes". - Publisher
"Moscow", 1966. S. 635 - 642.
Sokolov - Mikitov I.S. "Bylitsy", - Smolensk, 1962. - 175 p.
Sokolov - Mikitov I.S. "Kamchatka", - Smolensk, 1962. - 52 p.
Sokolov - Mikitov I.S. "Honey hay", 1979. - 333 p.
Sokolov - Mikitov I.S. "Gypsy", - Smolensk, 1962. - 71 p.
Life and work of I.S. Sokolova - Mikitova. - Moscow, 1984.

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