Boris Yekimov biography is short. Boris Yekimov - stories Boris Yekimov biography

Boris Yekimov biography of a short Russian prose writer and publicist is set out in this article.

Boris Ekimov short biography

Boris Petrovich Ekimov was born into a family of civil servants in the Krasnoyarsk Region on November 19, 1938. He worked as a turner, locksmith, adjuster, electrician at a plant, a builder in the Tyumen region and in Kazakhstan, a labor teacher in a rural school.

The first works of Boris Petrovich were published in 1965. The young enough writer managed to stand out and a year later he was admitted to the Writers' Union of Russia, and in 1979 he successfully completed his literary courses.

Yekimov created more than two hundred works that were published in “Our Contemporary”, “Znamya”, “Russia” and many others. The main characters of his stories are mainly residents of small farms, and the plots are ordinary life stories of ordinary people, and thanks to this, anyone can find in them similarities to their problems.

Boris Yekimov's works have been translated into English, Spanish, Italian, German, French and other languages. His story "Shepherd's Star" is included in the Presidential Library - a series of books by outstanding works by Russian authors.

From 1985 to 1991, the writer was on the board of the Writers' Union of Russia. In addition to all this, for many years the writer was on the editorial boards of many Russian magazines.
In 2008, Ekimov was awarded the title of laureate of the Solzhenitsyn Prize.

"My literary discovery. Boris Yekimov"

Research work of the student of Slezkina Julia, supervisor: Medvedeva E.E.

Relevance of the work. Objectives.

2015 is declared the Year of Literature. I am very glad to this event, as I read with pleasure, participate in olympiads and competitions, make presentations and projects. I hope the Year of Literature will help my peers discover something new.

Recently I was preparing for the Live Classics competition. It was necessary to select a small prose work for reading. I took some books and began to read. I was immediately attracted by one name - "Speak, Mom, Speak." It smelled like something dear, close and painfully familiar. The image of the old mother that came to me while reading did not let me go for a long time. Such simple, understandable lines, such obvious things were so remarkably revealed to me by the author. I re-read the work several times and almost memorized it. I wanted to know more about the author of this wonderful story, about his life and work. It was pleasant to read in Internet resources that this is our contemporary, his life is connected with the Volgograd land. It turns out that Boris Yekimov is our fellow countryman who was awarded the Solzhenitsyn Prize!

I formulated the goals of my work as follows:

Get acquainted with the biography of Boris Yekimov; find in Internet resources material about the life of the writer, his creative biography;

Find out what topics the author wrote about; what images he created;

What literary prizes the author was awarded;

Make a presentation and speak at a school conference as part of the Year of Literature.

Biography.

Boris Petrovich Ekimov was born on November 19, 1938 in the city of Igarka, Krasnoyarsk Territory, into a family of employees. He worked as a turner, locksmith, adjuster, electrician at a plant, a builder in the Tyumen region and in Kazakhstan, a labor teacher in a rural school.

He made his debut as a prose writer in 1965. In 1976 he was admitted to the "Union of Writers of Russia", and three years later he graduated from the Higher Literary Courses.

During his many years of writing, Boris Yekimov has created over 200 works. Published in the most popular literary publications: "Our Contemporary", "Banner", "New World" "Niva Tsaritsynskaya", "Russia". The most noticeable interest among the readership was aroused by B. Yekimov's publications in the “perestroika” years at the peak of the “thick editions” circulation: collections of stories “For Warm Bread”, “Healing Night”, novels “Parents' House”, “Shepherd's Star”.

Boris Yekimov is often called "the conductor of the literary traditions of the Don region." The leitmotif of his works is the real everyday life of an ordinary person.

Dmitry Shevarov, a columnist for the Trud newspaper, wrote: “Anyone who has read at least one of Yekimov’s stories must have remembered the writer. And although all his heroes are residents of the farmsteads of the Don, everyone will say: this is about us, about me. About our life - anxious, broken into fragments. With the power of talent and love, the writer carefully collects these fragments into a narrative, which, I think, will remain in Russian literature for a long time as an honest testimony of everything that we have experienced in the last 20 years. "

About his life and creative path Yekimov says:

“All good literature is driven by longing for a good person. Literature should encourage good thinking and creation, and it is born, probably, when a person sees and wants to say that humanity can live much better ... This is an attempt to make a person think about the meaning of his existence and the fact that he should live his short life is decent ... "

Boris Yekimov is a member of the boards of the Writers 'Union of the RSFSR (from 1985 to 1991) and the Writers' Union of Russia (since 1994). He was a member of the editorial board of the weekly "Literaturnaya Rossiya" (since 1987). Member of the editorial boards of the magazines Otchiy Kray, Roman-Gazeta (since 1998). Member of the Commission for State Prizes under the President of the Russian Federation (since 1997). Jury member of the Booker Prize (1997).

Boris Yekimov lives, as he often says, “in two houses”: in Volgograd and Kalach-on-Don. He is an honorary citizen of the city of Kalach-on-Don, Volgograd Region.

Yekimov is a laureate of the Solzhenitsyn Prize.

In 2008 he was awarded the Alexander Solzhenitsyn Literary Prize. Alexander Solzhenitsyn himself wrote:

“In a multitude of vivid stories and essays, Yekimov draws the unfamiliar environment of the current countryside with its new way of life, alluring opportunities and steep threats. This live stream of Yekimov's paintings, pushing our ideas about the difficult life of today's village, helps to restore, at least mentally, the unity of the national body ”

The Solzhenitsyn Prize is one of the most prestigious literary prizes, established to award writers living in Russia and writing in Russian for works created and published in the post-revolutionary period. In exceptional cases, the prize may be awarded posthumously to authors. Awarded since 1998. The award was conceived by Solzhenitsyn in 1978. His task was formulated by him as follows: "We will not let the worthy ones, we will not reward the empty ones!"

In Internet resources, I found information about who is nominated for the Solzhenitsyn Prize and who is awarded it. Thus, the prize is awarded to writers “whose work has high artistic merit, contributes to the self-knowledge of Russia, and makes a significant contribution to the preservation and careful development of the traditions of Russian literature.

The prize is awarded annually for works written in one of the main branches of literature: prose, poetry, drama, literary criticism and literary criticism. None of these are considered priority; when awarding the prize, neither the principle of priority nor the principle of rotation of the types of literature is applied.

The prize can be awarded for a novel, a novel, or a collection of stories; a book or cycle of poems; a play; collection of articles or research.

In exceptional cases, the prize may be split between two candidates.
Past laureates are entitled to nominate candidates.

The financial support of the award is provided by the Russian Public Fund of Alexander Sozhenitsyn. By the way, this Fund was founded in 1974, immediately after the expulsion from the country, and gave him all the world fees for the "Gulag Archipelago" .. Since then, the Fund has provided systematic assistance to the victims of the Gulag, and also financed projects related to the preservation of Russian culture. The prize money is $ 25,000.

The announcement of the name of the winner of a given year takes place in the first week of March. The award ceremony takes place in the last week of April.

The award ceremony takes place in the premises of the House of the Russian Diaspora.

In 2001, an addition was made to the regulation stating that works on Russian history, Russian statehood, philosophical and social thought, as well as significant active cultural projects, would be admitted to consideration.

In 2008, Boris Yekimov, a writer, received the prize “for the poignancy and pain in describing the lost state of the Russian province and for reflecting the ineradicable dignity of a humble person; for the source of the living folk language that beats in the writer's prose ”.

The Russkiy Mir publishing house publishes the works of the laureates in the book series Alexander Solzhenitsyn's Literary Prize

What other prize was awarded to Boris Ekimov?

· Laureate of the magazine "Our Contemporary" (1976)

· Laureate of the "Literary Gazette" prize (1987)

Winner of the Ivan Bunin Prize (1994)

· Laureate of the "New World" magazine prize (1996)

· Laureate of the first prize "Moscow-Penne" (1997)

Laureate of the State Prize of the Russian Federation (1998)

· Laureate of the Stalingrad Prize (1999)

Heroes of the works of Yekimov

For the heroes of Boris Ekimov's stories, the main thing is to give others their soul, their warmth, to be the lights that help them live and survive in this life. Quarrels, petty troubles - these are all trifles, they should not shield living, feeling people from us.

So, the heroine of the story "Speak, Mom, Speak!" is an old lonely woman. Her life runs from one daughter's call to another. Her whole world is a whole passing era. So touchingly she clings to her world, which is leaving almost forever. And so touchingly she tries to convince herself and us that spring is coming soon. And the daughter is almost there. For a mobile phone. And so touchingly, clumsily she tells that her life was difficult - the years were not easy.

The stunning ending of the story: the daughter, always busy and hurrying about her business, suddenly realized that life is priceless, that mother is necessary, that life may not happen tomorrow - the daughter says: "Speak, mother, speak!"

With one phrase, the author made, I think, all readers to urgently call their older relatives! It seems that this phrase is eternal in relation to two generations. The most valuable thing is live human communication with the closest people!

Thinking about the heroes of Boris Petrovich Yekimov's stories, it is worth thinking about how the writer himself understands happiness and the meaning of life? On February 16, 2007, a meeting of the writer with schoolchildren took place. The writer spoke about the experience of mankind and lamented that we have no human experience of living. There are ten thousand children suffering from cancer in our country, every third of them will die. And at the same time, someone from the rich at the resort lives 200,000 euros in one day. The artist of the word spoke about the main thing in our life and the little things. Beautiful trinkets, rings, mobile phones - it's all adjectives, it's all little things.

“What is the most precious thing in life? - A life!

Do I need a lot? -

A crumb of bread and a drop of milk.

Yes, this is heaven. Yes, these clouds.

Do we see this sky? Look around you! We see neither the sky, nor beautiful people, we do not hear the whistling of birds.

You have to understand that life is long, but you can miss it. We must try to become a human being, to understand why you came into the world. If you don't like the world, create your own. How important the peace of the family is! Nowhere will you get so much sincerity and sympathy, and at any time you will be covered by the hands of your loved ones, the hands of friends. We must cherish this. "

Conclusions:

1. Boris Ekimov is a writer, our fellow countryman, his literary biography is a vivid example for our generation.

2.Boris Ekimov is a Russian contemporary writer who tells us our soul, makes us think about eternal values: kindness, compassion, mercy.

3. The prizes awarded to Yekimov are confirmation that the author should be studied in the school curriculum.

4. I gave a presentation about the author and spoke at a school conference.

Internet resources.

Boris Yekimov was born in the city of Igarka, Krasnoyarsk Territory, into a family of employees. He worked as a turner, locksmith, adjuster, electrician at a factory, a builder in the Tyumen region and in Kazakhstan, a labor teacher in a rural school.

Prizes

Artworks

The story "A short time of the bearded" ()

Collection of stories "Parent's Saturday" ()

Novel "Parents' House"

Bibliography

The Girl in the Red Coat: Stories. - Moscow: Sovremennik, 1974 .-- 176 p.
At home: Stories. - Volgograd: Nizhne-Volzhsky book publishing house, 1975 .-- 128 p.
The Short Time of the Bearded: A Tale. - Volgograd: Nizhne-Volzhsky book publishing house, 1977 .-- 176 p.
Officer: Stories. - Volgograd: Nizhne-Volzhsky book publishing house, 1978. - 192 p.
The last hut: Stories. - Moscow: Sovremennik, 1980 .-- 270 p.
Arrived safely: Stories. - Volgograd: Nizhne-Volzhsky book publishing house, 1980. - 286 p.
Christmas tree for mother: Stories. - M .: Soviet Russia, 1984 .-- 302 p.
Kholyushino Compound: Stories and a Novel. - M .: Soviet writer, 1984 .-- 360 p.
Private Investigation: A Story. Stories. - Volgograd: Nizhne-Volzhsky book publishing house, 1985. - 384 p.
For Warm Bread: Stories. - M .: Sovremennik, 1986 .-- 396, p.
Healing Night: Stories, Novel. - M .: Soviet writer, 1986 .-- 366, p.
Living Soul: Stories. - M .: Children's literature, 1987 .-- 189, p.
The meeting will not take place: Stories. - Volgograd: Nizhne-Volzhsky book publishing house, 1988. - 269, p.
Parental House: Roman. - M .: Sovremennik, 1988 .-- 270, p.
Solonich: Stories and a story - M .: Children's literature, 1989. - 205, p.
Denunciation: Stories and stories. - M .: Sovremennik, 1990 .-- 428 p.
Stories; Private Investigation: A Story. - M .: Fiction, 1991 .-- 413, p.
Highest measure: Stories and stories. - Volgograd: Volgogr. com. on press, 1995. - 415, p.
Favorites: [Stories and Stories]. - In 2 volumes - Volgograd: Kom. on press and inform., 1998. T. 1. - 606 p. T. 2. - 623 p.
Pinochet: Stories and Stories. - M .: Vagrius, 2000 .-- 410, p. - ISBN 5-264-00435-8
The night passes: [stories, stories] - M .: Sunday, 2002. - 598, p. - ISBN 5-88528-289-7
Under the high cross: stories. - Volgograd: Publisher, 2008. - 605, p.
No need to cry ...: [collection of stories and stories] - M .: Vagrius, 2008. - 396, p. - ISBN 978-5-9697-0595-1
On the farm: narration in stories. - M .: Time, 2009/2010. - 463 p.
Farewell to the collective farm: sketches of different years. - M .: Time, 2009/2010. - 511 p. - ISBN 978-5-9691-0420-4
The day will wake up: stories. - Volgograd: Publisher, 2013 .-- 414, p.
Autumn in the Don region. A story about land and people. - M .: Nikeya, 2016 .-- 400 p. - ISBN 978-5-91761-322-2

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Literature

Bitter Wind of the Earth: A Bibliography<по Б. П. Екимову> / Volgograd OUNB them. M. Gorky; comp. I. S. Plyukhina. - Volgograd, 1998 .-- 74 p.

Notes

An excerpt characterizing Ekimov, Boris Petrovich

- Le vicomte a ete personnellement connu de monseigneur, [the Viscount was personally acquainted with the duke,] Anna Pavlovna whispered to one. “Le vicomte est un parfait conteur,” she said to the other. “Comme on voit l” homme de la bonne compagnie [As a man of good society is now seen], ”she said to the third, and the viscount was served to society in the most elegant and favorable light for it, like roast beef on a hot dish sprinkled with herbs.
The Viscount was about to begin his story and smiled thinly.
- Come here, chere Helene, [dear Helene,] - said Anna Pavlovna to the beautiful princess, who was sitting at a distance, forming the center of another circle.
Princess Helene smiled; she rose with the same unchanging smile of a perfectly beautiful woman with whom she entered the drawing-room. Slightly rustling with her white ballroom robe, trimmed with ivy and moss, and shining with the whiteness of her shoulders, the gloss of hair and diamonds, she walked between the parted men and straight, not looking at anyone, but smiling to everyone and as if graciously giving everyone the right to admire the beauty of their camp. , full of shoulders, very open, in the fashion of the time, chest and back, and as if bringing with her the brilliance of a ball, she went up to Anna Pavlovna. Helene was so good that not only was there not even a shadow of coquetry in her, but, on the contrary, she seemed to be ashamed of her undoubted and too strong and triumphantly acting beauty. She seemed to want and could not diminish the effect of her beauty. Quelle belle personne! [What a beauty!] - said everyone who saw her.
As if struck by something extraordinary, the Viscount shrugged his shoulders and dropped his eyes while she sat down in front of him and illuminated him with the same invariable smile.
- Madame, je crains pour mes moyens devant un pareil auditoire, [I really fear for my abilities in front of such an audience,] he said, bowing his head with a smile.
The princess leaned her open, full hand on the table and did not find it necessary to say anything. She waited, smiling. Throughout the story she sat upright, glancing now and then at her full, beautiful hand, which changed its shape from the pressure on the table, now at an even more beautiful chest, on which she was straightening a diamond necklace; She straightened the folds of her dress several times and, when the story made an impression, looked back at Anna Pavlovna and immediately assumed the same expression that was on the maid of honor, and then again calmed down in a radiant smile. After Helene the little princess also passed from the tea table.
“Attendez moi, je vais prendre mon ouvrage, [Wait, I'll take my job,]” she said. - Voyons, a quoi pensez vous? - she turned to Prince Hippolytus: - apportez moi mon ridicule. [What are you thinking about? Bring my reticule.]
The princess, smiling and talking to everyone, suddenly made a rearrangement and, sitting down, recovered cheerfully.
“Now I'm fine,” she said, and, asking to begin, set to work.
Prince Hippolytus carried her a reticule, went over to her and, drawing a chair close to her, sat down beside her.
Le charmant Hippolyte impressed with his extraordinary resemblance to his beautiful sister, and even more so that, despite the resemblance, he was strikingly foolish. The features of his face were the same as those of his sister, but in the latter everything was illuminated by the cheerful, self-satisfied, young, unchanging smile of life and the extraordinary, antique beauty of the body; on the other hand, the brother's face was clouded with idiocy and invariably expressed a self-confident grumpiness, and the body was thin and weak. Eyes, nose, mouth - everything seemed to be compressed into one vague and boring grimace, and arms and legs always took an unnatural position.
"Ce n" est pas une histoire de revenants? [Isn't this a ghost story?], He said, sitting down beside the princess and hastily attaching his lorgnette to his eyes, as if without this instrument he could not begin to speak.
- Mais non, mon cher, [Not at all,] - the surprised narrator said with a shrug.
- C "est que je deteste les histoires de revenants, [The fact is that I hate ghost stories,] - he said in a tone that was obvious, - he said these words, and then he realized that they meant.
Due to the self-confidence with which he spoke, no one could understand whether what he said was very clever or very stupid. He was in a dark green tailcoat, in pantaloons of the color cuisse de nymphe effrayee, [the thighs of a frightened nymph,] as he himself said, in stockings and shoes.
Vicomte [Viscount] told very nicely about the anecdote that was then circulating that the Duke of Enghien had secretly traveled to Paris to meet with m lle George, [Mademoiselle Georges] and that there he met Bonaparte, who also enjoyed the favors of the famous actress, and that there, meeting with the duke, Napoleon accidentally fell into the swoon to which he was exposed, and was at the mercy of the duke, which the duke did not take advantage of, but that Bonaparte subsequently for this generosity and avenged the death of the duke.
The story was very sweet and interesting, especially in the place where the rivals suddenly recognize each other, and the ladies seemed to be in excitement.
- Charmant, [Charming,] - said Anna Pavlovna, looking inquiringly at the little princess.
“Charmant,” whispered the little princess, sticking a needle into her work, as if to show that the interest and charm of the story prevented her from continuing her work.
The Viscount appreciated this silent praise and, smiling gratefully, continued; but at this time Anna Pavlovna, who was still looking at the young man who was terrible for her, noticed that he was talking too hotly and loudly with the abbot, and hastened to help the dangerous place. Indeed, Pierre managed to strike up a conversation with the abbot about political equilibrium, and the abbot, apparently interested in the young man's innocent ardor, developed his favorite idea in front of him. Both listened and spoke too animatedly and naturally, and Anna Pavlovna did not like this.
“The remedy is European equilibrium and droit des gens [international law],” said the abbot. - It is worth one powerful state like Russia, glorified for barbarism, to become disinterestedly at the head of a union aimed at balancing Europe - and it will save the world!
- How do you find such a balance? - Pierre began; but at that moment Anna Pavlovna came up and, glancing sternly at Pierre, asked the Italian about how he endured the local climate. The Italian's face suddenly changed and took on an insulting feigned sweet expression, which, apparently, was familiar to him in conversation with women.
“I am so fascinated by the delights of the mind and education of society, especially women, into which I had the good fortune to be accepted, that I did not have time to think about the climate,” he said.
Without letting out the abbot and Pierre, Anna Pavlovna, for the convenience of observation, joined them to the general circle.

At this time, a new face entered the living room. The new face was the young prince Andrei Bolkonsky, the husband of the little princess. Prince Bolkonsky was of small stature, a very handsome young man with definite and dry features. Everything in his figure, from a tired, bored gaze to a quiet, measured step, represented the sharpest contrast with his small, lively wife. Apparently, all those who were in the living room were not only familiar to him, but he was so tired of him that he was very bored to look at them and listen to them. Of all the faces that bored him, the face of his pretty wife seemed to bore him the most. With a grimace that ruined his handsome face, he turned away from her. He kissed Anna Pavlovna's hand and, squinting, looked around the whole society.

Boris Yekimov is a famous Russian prose writer whose wise works immerse the reader in the painfully familiar world of ordinary everyday life with daily problems, eternal crisis, constant struggle and humility.

Biography of Boris Ekimov

Boris is a native of the city of Igarka (Krasnoyarsk Territory), was born in 1938, on November 19, in a family that specialized in the extraction of furs. A year later, after his father died, the family changed their place of residence to Irkutsk, then to the Almaty region - the village of Ili, and in 1945 they settled in the city of Kalach-na-Donu (Volgograd region).

The writer's path to literature began from the time the boy learned to read. After school, the young man graduated from the Stalingrad Mechanical Institute, then worked at a factory, and then served in the army. Before writing, he tried himself in different professions: an electrician at a factory, a fitter, a construction worker, a labor teacher in a rural school.

Writing debut

His debut as a prose writer took place in 1965, after the publication of the story in the magazine "Young Guard". The Girl in the Red Coat (1974), the author's debut book, published by the Sovremennik publishing house, immediately became an application for a personal niche in literature. Further, Russian prose was enriched with the books "The Night of Healing", "We Arrived Safely", "At Their Own", "Officer", "The Last Hut".

In 1976, Boris Petrovich Ekimov received membership in the Union of Writers of Russia, and three years later he graduated from the Higher Literary Courses.

Boris Yekimov: stories about a Russian man

For the entire period of his long literary activity, the Russian prose writer wrote more than two hundred works, which were published in such publications as Novy Mir, Russia, Niva Tsaritsynskaya, Znamya, and Our Contemporary. Most of all, the readership appreciated such works as "Shepherd's Star", "Parents' House", "For Warm Bread", "Night of Healing". The writer is deservedly considered a guide to the literary customs of the Don Territory, because his spiritual works truthfully describe the everyday life of ordinary people. And this topic is understandable to many, so Yekimov's books are in great demand among the readership.

In the heroes of the author's stories, each person recognizes himself and his being - alarming, with restructuring, eternal crises, fraternal wars, broken into fragments. Boris Yekimov carefully assembles these fragments into a coherent picture as evidence of what the Russian people have experienced and are experiencing over the past decades. This can be seen especially clearly in the works "No need to cry", "For warm bread", "Pinochet". In 2008, the Russian author was awarded the Solzhenitsyn Prize with the wording "For pain and acuteness in describing the lost state of the Russian province and for displaying the ineradicable dignity of the Russian people."

Sincerity in the works of Boris Ekimov

In his native Volgograd, the writer Boris Petrovich Yekimov is the most recognized author. His prose is full of wisdom and serenity. In the stories, the world of the human soul and nature is shown in an integral unity, and individual and insignificant events, like a multi-colored mosaic, add up to whole pictures of life. Boris Ekimov reveals the inner world of man through the various manifestations of nature.

The collection "The Day Wakes Up" describes the life episodes of everyday life in small towns and farm life. The stories described are based on the connection between the elderly, adults and children, the interaction of human consciousness and the surrounding reality. A city boy of six years of age, having lived for a year in the countryside, matures, imbued with love for the foal that has not yet been born and zeal for work. Here grandfather takes his grandson to admire the river and the forest, and nature is the best link for these two generations. And the first grader is very worried that his mother laughed at him in front of a girl from a parallel class. Boris Yekimov's language does not contain borrowings and dialectisms; the author writes in pure Russian, which has survived in this form only on library shelves and in school textbooks.

The writer's works were translated into several languages: Italian, French, English, Spanish, German. And the story "Shepherd's Star" enriched

Boris Ekimov

Stories

Boris Petrovich Ekimov

STORIES

HOW TO TELL ...

OLD PEOPLE

BIRDS OF GOD

NIGHT CONVERSATIONS

WHAT WILL KUM NIKOLAI SAY

THOUSAND RUBLES TO THE WORLD FUND

HOW DID PETRO DIED

STENKIN KURGAN

EXPERIMENT

HOW TO TELL ...

Every spring, for the fifth year in a row, Grigory took a vacation for ten days and went on a spring fishing trip to the Don.

He worked at the plant as a welder-assembler, had a wife and two children, a daughter and a son. The factory bosses and the domestic ones treated his whims with a grin, but condescending. So, as it should be humanly to relate to the strange, but not particularly disturbing whims of a forty-year-old man, a good worker and a kind family man.

He took leave for ten days and was always managed, he was not late. He arrived at the due date, brought some dried fish, about fifty sabrefish and singa in salt; I even managed to bring fresh pike perch, cut and salted, because the time was already warm. But he did.

The homemade fish soup and perch of boiled ate were praised. The neighbors in the house looked enviously when Grigory, in due time, hung out on the balcony not the Moscow minnows, but the saber saber and the blue bream - the kind Don fish, which, with a good sluggishness, glows through and through in the sun.

And Grigory himself grew healthy this week, his face and hands were covered with a tan, he looked more cheerful. And the wife was happy, because the man could not boast of her health. He was born during the war, lost his father and mother, grew up in an orphanage and FZO in the years of famine - now it seems that everything was reflected.

This year, like all the previous ones, since the end of February, Grigory began to watch TV attentively, the program "Time", when they talked about the weather. He even wrote down the temperature on a special piece of paper. And in Izvestia I followed the last page, where the weather was always reported in detail. He needed the Don to open up, and the ice drifted, and a little warmer.

But spring is late this year. March came, and April pulled, and all the cold, cold stood. Grigory was nervous, languishing. Everything was already at the ready: tackle, plastic bags for fish, some grub, some gifts for the guys of a friend, with whom Grigory always stayed. Everything was ready.

And finally it struck. In the south, spring has begun. Gregory bought a ticket, wrote a statement for his ten days and drove off.

The train left Moscow in the evening, from the Kazan station. The familiar platforms of the Moscow region flew past. In the evening we came to the chilled Ryazan. And in the morning outside the windows lay a different land, springtime. The spring wind flew over the black arable land. Rooks were loudly shouting in the station squares. Orange tractors with red seeders crawled along the tracks. And Gregory began to worry. He grinned, but could not help himself. I smoked more often. And he kept thinking how he would arrive, how he would walk down the street, open the gate. He thought about the meeting and involuntarily smiled, he felt good.

Like any person who did not know relatives from an early age, Gregory regretted this. He always envied people who had someone in another city. He sometimes dreamed, in his youth, of course, more, but even now he dreamed, or rather, invented some kind of relatives for himself. And he imagined how he was going there, taking gifts, arriving. And what a joy, after all, we have not seen so many, how many conversations ... He really wanted to come to visit, to his relatives. But there were no relatives. Or maybe they were, but lost in the war. He ended up in an orphanage as a boy and, of course, did not remember anything. What kind of relatives ...

But now, when his children were growing up and growing up, Gregory often thought about the time when his daughter and son would heal with their families, in other cities. And then it will be possible to visit them. Yes, and the daughter-in-law, the son-in-law, of course, will have parents, the time is peaceful. Then you can stay. He once told his wife, she laughed and scolded him: "Bad ... Let them live here, near us, in Moscow, and you are driving them somewhere far away ... To me, father ..." He didn't argue. But I thought to myself that at least one would leave.

And now, in the carriage, when the train was approaching Volgograd, Grigory was beginning to worry. He was afraid to be late. And then, at the bus station, he was nervous: he wanted to leave faster, and not wait here. There were no tickets for the nearest bus, and he begged the driver and rode standing. Having waved a thousand miles, he could not wait for the last step, some fifty - sixty kilometers.

In Novyi Rogachik, just in the middle of the way, a lot of people got off, and then he sat down in a chair and looked out the window. And outside the window was real spring. Something was green in the fields. And the roadside began to turn green. And in roadside villages people were digging the ground, planting something, probably potatoes. And Grigory calmed down, realizing that he had arrived on time today, he was not late.

The village where he was in a hurry stood on the Don, but it was nondescript, unenviable: small houses, dirty streets, the only thread of broken asphalt.

But that the village is at home ...

There was a straight road from the bus station, three blocks away. Grigory came quickly, opened the dilapidated gate. He put the suitcase on the porch and lit a cigarette.

The door was latched, which means the hostess is in the yard. Gregory sat down on the porch and smoked, waiting. Some kind of awkwardness approached, timidity: after all, he had arrived at a strange house.

Arrived, Grisha! Came again ... - finally came a voice from the barn. I arrived...

Grigory got up, laughed, looking at the old woman in a warm shawl and sweatshirt hurrying to him, hurrying.

Yes, here you come, Aunt Varya ... Will you accept?

Don't accept such a guest, dear ... - the woman's voice trembled, and she began to cry.

Will, Aunt Varya, shed tears ... - Gregory reassured her.

They had met for the umpteenth time, the fifth or sixth spring, but they could not get used to this, the first step, in the first minutes of the meeting. There was some kind of hitch, awkwardness. They could not hug them, because they were completely strangers to each other. And it’s embarrassing to just clue in, it’s too cold. And that is why they only greeted each other, looked at each other, said some words - that was the end of the meeting. And today it was as always. They stood, aunt Varya burst into tears, Grigory was smoking. And then everything went as if written.

Let's go, Grisha, to the hut, ”said the hostess. - Just like I was waiting for you. Today I cooked some good cabbage soup with pork. Here in the neighborhood a wild boar was slaughtered, well, I took some. Yes, I cooked so much cabbage soup, I couldn't eat alone in a week. So the Lord prompted ...

The usual conversation was going on at dinner. Aunt Varya asked about his wife and children; Gregory - about local news and health.

Aunt Varya's health could not get better, she had already changed her eighth decade. And all the local news appeared as soon as Gregory went out into the garden.

Topicality of the sound of comedy A

Analysis of the episode Reception in the salon of Anna Pavlovna Sherer, role and significance based on the novel of the epic War and Peace (Tolstoy Lev N