Excerpt from the novel by Vasily Shukshin. “I came to give you freedom.” An excerpt from the novel by Vasily Shukshin. Shukshin sang and listened to us

VASILY SHUKSHIN

I CAME TO GIVE YOU FREE

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Stepan Razin is the soul of the Cossack will, a people's defender, a man of remarkable intelligence, a cunning diplomat and a sweeping daredevil. He is unstoppable in battles, unbridled in love, reckless in mistakes. His plows sailed to the shores of Persia, walked along the wide expanses of the Volga and the bends of the Don. He made the mighty of this world tremble and became truly a people's favorite. This is exactly how he appears on the pages of Vasily Shukshin’s novel, surrounded by friends and foes against the backdrop of his turbulent times.

Part one
FREE COSSACKS

Every year, in the first week of Lent, the Orthodox Church cursed different voices:

“The thief and traitor, and cross-criminal, and murderer Stenka Razin forgot the holy cathedral church and the Orthodox Christian faith, betrayed the great sovereign, and committed many dirty tricks and bloodshed and murders in the city of Astrakhan and in other lower cities, and all the Orthodox Christians who came to him treachery did not suit him, he beat him, then he himself soon disappeared, and with his like-minded people may he be damned! Like the new heretics are cursed: Archimandrite Kassiap, Ivashka Maksimov, Nekras Rukavov, Volk Kuritsyn, Mitya Konoglev, Grishka Otrepyev, the traitor and thief Timoshka Akindinov, the former archpriest Avvakum ... "

The cold bells thumped heavily through the frost. The silence trembled and swayed; The sparrows on the roads were scared. Over the white fields, over the snowdrifts, solemn mournful sounds floated, sent down to people by people. Voices in the temples of God told the silent ones - something terrible, daring:

“... He despised the fear of the Lord God Almighty, and forgot the hour of death and the day, and considered the future reward of the evil-doer as nothing, outraged and cursed the holy church, and to the Great Sovereign Tsar and Grand Duke Alexei Mikhailovich, all Great and Little and White Russia, the autocrat, kissing the cross and breaking his oath, rejecting the yoke of work..."

Above the patient hills, above the dwellings, cast copper music hummed, as beautiful, alarming, as familiar. And the Russian people listened and were baptized. But go and understand your soul - what is there: misfortune and horror or hidden pride and pain for “those who despised the hour of death”? They were silent.

... “The Christian-Russian people outraged, and deceived many ignorant people, and raised up a flattering army, fathers against sons, and sons against fathers, brothers against brothers, who destroyed the souls and bodies of countless numbers of Christian people, and was guilty of much innocent bloodshed, and for everything the state of Moscow, evildoer, enemy and criminal of the cross, robber, murderer, murderer, bloodsucker, new thief and traitor Don Cossack Stenka Razin with the mentors and evildoers of such evil, with his first advisers, his will and his villainy, his evil undertaking, his leading accomplices, like Dathan and Aviron, may they be cursed. Anathema!"

Such - the majesty of death - the sovereign voices rang out with echoes of Ataman Razin, who was still alive, even before the Moscow ax hacked him to death in the square, in public.

During the golden days, in August 1669, Stepan Razin led his gang from the sea to the mouth of the Volga and stood at the island of the Four Bugors.
The dangerous, protracted, grueling, but extremely successful campaign in Persia is behind us. The differences crawled back almost alive; They were not the first, they were not the last to “run away to Khvolyn,” but only they came from there so rich. There, in Persia, Cossack lives were left behind for the “zipuns”, and many of them. And perhaps the dearest - Seryoga Krivoy, Stepan’s beloved friend, his brother-in-law. But on the other hand, the Don’s plows were bursting with all the good that the fellows “bargained” from the “cross-eyed” with a saber, courage and treachery. The Cossacks were swollen from the salt water, and many were sick. All 1200 people (without prisoners). Now we need to gain strength - rest, eat... And the Cossacks again took up arms, but they were not needed. Yesterday we raided the home of Metropolitan Joseph of Astrakhan - they took salted fish, caviar, elm, bread, as much as there was... But there was little. They also took boats, seines, cauldrons, axes, and hooks. There was no need for weapons because the working people from the uchug almost all fled, and those who remained did not think of resisting. And the ataman did not order to touch anyone. He also left various church utensils and icons in expensive frames on the church - so that in Astrakhan they would know in advance his kindness and inclination towards peace. I had to somehow get home to the Don. And before their campaign in Persia, the Razins really annoyed the Astrakhan people. Not so much to Astrakhan, but to Astrakhan governors.
Two ways home: the Volga through Astrakhan and through Terki along the Kuma River. Here and there are the sovereign's archers, who, perhaps, have already been ordered to catch the Cossacks, take away their goods and disarm them. And then - intimidate them and send them home, and not with such a horde right away. What should I do? And it’s a pity to give away the goods, and to disarm... And why give it away?! Everything was obtained with blood, through such hardships... And - to give everything away?

...The circle was noisy.
A large Cossack, naked to the waist, was snarling in all directions from a barrel placed on his butt.
- Are you going to visit your godfather?! - they shouted to him. - And even then, not every godfather loves darmovshinnikov, another will treat him with what they lock the gates with.
- The governor is not my godfather, but this thing is not my grip! - the Cossack answered proudly from the barrel, showing his saber. - I can treat anyone myself.
“He’s a quick-witted Cossack: as soon as he grabs a woman by the tits, he shouts: “Believe one!” Oh, and greedy!
They laughed all around.
- Kondrat, and Kondrat!.. - An old dry Cossack with a large hooked nose stepped forward. - Why are you ruining yourself, because the governor is not your godfather? How can I check this?
- Should I check it? - Kondrat perked up. - Let's stretch out your tongue: if it is shorter than your nose, the governor is my godfather. Cut my head off then. But I’m not a fool to expose my head to falsehood: I know that your tongue wraps three and a half times around your neck, and your nose, if you cut it off on one side, only reaches the back of your head...
- He will mock! - Kondrat was pushed off the barrel by a Cossack in Esaul clothes, serious, reasonable.
- Brothers! - he began; the surroundings became quiet. - Scratch your throat - your head won't hurt. Let's think about what to do. Two roads home: Kuma and Volga. Wallpaper is closed. Here and there you have to force your way through. No fool will let us through with goodness. And since this is the case, let’s decide: where is it easier? They have been waiting for us in Astrakhan for a long time. There are now, I think, two lines of one-year-old archers gathered there: the new ones have come and the old ones are holding on to us. About five thousand, or even more. There are a little over a thousand of us. There are so many sick people! This is one thing. Terki - there are also archers...
Stepan was sitting on a stone, somewhat away from the barrel. Next to him - some standing, some sitting - esauls, centurions: Ivan Chernoyarets, Yaroslav Mikhailo, Frol Minaev, Lazar Timofeev and others. Stepan listened to Suknin indifferently; it seemed that his thoughts were far from here. It seemed like he wasn't listening. Without listening, he, however, heard everything well. Suddenly, sharply and loudly, he asked:
- What do you think, Fedor?
- To Terki, dad. It's not sweet there, but everything is easier. Here we will all lay down our heads to no avail, we will not pass. And God willing, we’ll take Terki and spend the winter... There’s somewhere to go.
- Ugh! - the dry, wiry old man Kuzma the Good, nicknamed Styr (rudder), exploded again. - You, Fedor, seem to have never been a Cossack! We won’t get through there, they won’t let us in here... And where were they letting us in? Where did they ask us so directly with tears: “Go, Cossacks, fumble us!” Tell me a little town, I’ll run there without pants...
“Don’t get confused, Styr,” the serious captain said harshly.
- Don't shut my mouth! - Styr also became angry.
- What do you want?
- Nothing. But it seems to me that someone here has put a saber on himself in vain.
“It’s up to anyone, Styr,” Kondrat, standing next to the old man, sarcastically remarked. “Bring it to you, it’s completely unnecessary: ​​with your tongue you’ll not only put Astrakhan on all fours, but also Moscow.” Don't be offended - it's really long. Show me, will you? - Kondrat depicted serious curiosity on his face. - And then they chatter that he’s not simple, but he seems to have fur on him...
- Language is what! - said Styr and pulled the saber from its sheath. - I’d better show you this doll...
- Enough! - Chernoyarets, the first captain, shouted. - Males. Tongue wallpaper. It’s a matter of speaking, but they’re here...
“But his is still longer,” Kondrat said finally and walked away from the old man, just in case.
“Speak, Fedor,” Stepan ordered. - Tell me what you started.
- We need to go to Terka, brothers! Sure thing. We'll get lost here. And there...
- Where are we going with kindness?! - they asked loudly.
- We’ll spend the winter, and in the spring...
- No need! - many shouted. - We haven’t been home for two years!
- I forgot what a woman smells like.
- Milk, like...
Styr unfastened his saber and threw it to the ground.
- You women are all here! - he said angrily and sadly.
- Let's go to Yaik! - voices were heard. - Let's take away Yaik - we'll start a trade business with the legs! Now we have no discord with the Tatars.
- Home!! - a lot of people shouted. It became noisy.
- How are you going home?! What? Cockhorse?!
- Are we an army or something so-so?! Let's get through! If we don’t make it through, we’ll perish, it’s not a great pity. We're the first, right?
- We can’t take Yaik now! - Fyodor strained himself. - We have weakened! May God overcome Terki!.. - But he couldn’t shout down.
- Brothers! - A short, shaggy, broad-shouldered Cossack climbed onto the barrel, next to Fyodor. - We'll send you to the king with an ax and a block - execution or mercy. He will have mercy! Tsar Ivan had mercy on Ermak...
- The king will have mercy! He will catch up and have mercy!
- And I think…
- Get through!! - stubborn ones like Styr stood. - What the hell is there to think about! Duma clerks were found...
Stepan kept lashing the toe of his boot with a reed. He raised his head when they shouted about the king. He looked at the shaggy guy... Either he wanted to remember who was the first to jump out “with an ax and a block,” what a smart guy.
“Dad, tell me, for Christ’s sake,” Ivan Chernoyarets turned to Stepan. - Otherwise we’ll be chattering until evening.
Stepan stood up, looking ahead, and walked into a circle. He walked with a heavy, strong gait. Legs - a little splayed out. The step is unyielding. But, apparently, the man is steadfast on the ground, you won’t knock him down right away. Even in the guise of the chieftain there is arrogance, not empty arrogance, not funny, but striking with the same heavy force with which his entire figure is imbued.
They calmed down. They fell completely silent.
Stepan approached the barrel... Fyodor and the shaggy Cossack jumped from the barrel.
- Stink! - Stepan called. - Come to me. I love listening to your speeches, Cossack. Go, I want to listen.
Styr picked up his saber and started babbling immediately, before even reaching the barrel:
- Timofeich! Think for yourself: let’s say that your father and I, may he rest in heaven, began to think and wonder back in Voronezh: should we go to the Don or not? - We wouldn’t see Don like our own ears. No! They stood up, shook themselves off, and went. And they became Cossacks! And they gave birth to the Cossacks. And here I don’t see a single Cossack woman! Have we forgotten how to fight? Were the butchers-streltsy scared? Why were we captured? Cossacks...
“You say well,” Stepan praised. He knocked the barrel on its side and pointed out to the old man: “Look at it, so you can hear it better.”
Styr didn’t understand.
- Like this?
- Climb onto the barrel, speak. But it’s just as difficult.
- Unable... Why did you leave?
- Try this. Will it come out?
Styr in indescribable Persian trousers, with a crooked Turkish saber, climbed onto a steep-sided powder keg. Amidst laughter and shouts, I climbed up with all my might and looked at the chieftain...
“Speak,” he ordered. It's unclear what he was up to.
- And I say, why don’t I see Cossacks here? - some kind of solid...
The barrel spun; Styr danced on it, waving his arms.
- Speak! - Stepan ordered, smiling himself too. - Speak, old man!
- I can’t!.. He’s spinning like this... like a guilty woman...
- Squat down, Styr! - they shouted from the circle.
- Don’t let us down, vigorous mother! Stick your tongue out!..
Styr couldn’t resist and jumped off the barrel.
- Can not? - Stepan asked loudly - deliberately loudly.
- Let me put him on his butt...
- Now, Styr, you’re a master at speaking, but you can’t - it’s not firmly under you. I do not want it so…
Stepan put the barrel on his butt and climbed onto it.
- I want to go home too! “But you need to come home as owners, not as beaten dogs.” - The chieftain spoke in short, barking phrases - as much as there was enough air at a time: after a pause, he again threw out a sharp, capacious word. It turned out to be assertive, indisputable. A lot here - in the manner of holding himself and speaking in front of the circle - also came from Stepan’s strength, truly imperious, powerful, but there was a lot of art and experience here. He knew how to speak, even if he didn't always know what to say.
- So that we don’t spin on the Don like Styr on a barrel. We must go through as we are - with weapons and goods. To break through is not a great force, brothers, there are few of us, we are stuck. There are many sick people. And if we break through, they won’t let us rise again. They'll finish it off. Our strength is there, on the Don, we will gather it. But you have to come in one piece. We will stand here for now and rest. Let's eat to our heart's content. In the meantime, let's see what kind of pies they bake in Astrakhan. Get sick, get fish... There are a lot of them in the pits here. Watch the watch!
The circle began to disperse. They got sick and unfurled the nets. An expensive Persian dress flew to the ground... They walked on it. They closed their eyes sweetly, exposing their emaciated sides to the affectionate native sun. They waded into the water in pairs, stretching the net. They groaned, gasped, and swore happily. Here and there fires blazed; large artel cauldrons were hung on tripods.
The sick were carried from the plows to the bank and laid in a row. They, too, rejoiced in the sun and the festive bustle that began on the island. The prisoners were also taken ashore, they scattered around the island, helping the Cossacks: collecting firewood, carrying water, making fires.
A silk tent was stretched out for the chieftain. The esauls gathered there to see him: the ataman was not saying something, it seemed like he was hiding something. They would like to understand what he is hiding.
Stepan spoke patiently, but again incompletely and vaguely, and was angry that he was talking so much. He didn't hide anything, he didn't know what to do.

Vasily Shukshin: “A lot has been written about Razin. However, everything that I managed to read about him in fiction, in my opinion, is weak. He walks too easily and habitually through the pages of books: a daredevil, the soul of the freemen, the protector and leader of the golytba, the thunderstorm of the boyars, governor and nobility. Everything is so. Only everything is probably not so simple...

In the spring of 1966, Vasily Shukshin wrote an application for the script “The End of Razin”.

Why did Stepan Razin go to Solovki?

Believe that everything was not in vain: our songs, our fairy tales, our incredible victories, our suffering - do not give all this for a sniff of tobacco... We knew how to live. Remember this. Be human.

Vasily Shukshin. Words 39 days before death. 08/21/1974

He is a national hero, and, oddly enough, this should be “forgotten.” We must free ourselves from his “witchcraft” pinching gaze, which frightens and beckons through the centuries. If possible, we must be able to “take away” his wonderful legends and leave the person behind. The people will not lose the Hero, the legends will live on, and Stepan will become closer. His nature is complex, contradictory in many ways, unbridled, sweeping. There could be no other way. And at the same time, he is a cautious, cunning, intelligent diplomat, extremely inquisitive and enterprising. Spontaneity is spontaneity... In the 17th century, it did not surprise anyone in Rus'. Razin’s “luck”, which has accompanied him for so long, is surprising. (Up to Simbirsk.) Many of his actions are incomprehensible: first going to Solovki on pilgrimage, then a year later - less - he personally breaks the monks’ arms over the knees and blasphemes the church. How to understand? You can, I think, if you say this: he knew how to control a crowd... I will allow myself some free speculation: having conceived the main thing (upwards, to Moscow), he needed Persia in order to be by that time in the eyes of the people Father Stepan Timofeevich. (There had been raids on Persia before him. And successful ones.) His goal was: to Moscow, but the Cossacks, men, and archers had to be led by his own, father, the lucky one, whom “the bullet does not take.” He became like this.

Why “The End of Razin?” He’s all here, Stepan: his inhuman strength and tragedy, his despair and unshakable conviction that it is necessary to “shake Moscow.” If he had been driven only by ambitious, proud thoughts and blood feud, he would not have made it to the front line. He knew what he was getting into. He wasn't deceived...

The film is supposed to be a two-part film, widescreen, in color." ( Lev Anninsky. Preface to volume 5 of collected works. Shukshin V.M. Collected Works in five volumes (volume 5); - B.: "Venda", 1992. - Reissue - E.: IPP "Ural Worker").

Zosima Solovetsky and Stepan Razin

Steppe... The silence and warmth of the world were stitched from above, from the sky, by silver threads of trills. Peace. And he, Stepan, still beardless, a young Cossack, goes to the Solovetsky Monastery to pray to Saint Zosima.
- How far is it, Cossack? - an old peasant he met asked him.
- To Solovki. Pray to Saint Zosima, father.
- Good deed, son. Come on, light a candle for me too. - The peasant took out a rag from behind his skin, unwound it, took out a coin, and gave it to the Cossack.
- I have it, father. I'll put it in.
- You can't, son. This is yours, and this is from me. Take that. You - Zosima, and from me - put it to Nikola Ugodnik, this is ours.
Stepan took the coin.
- What can you ask for?
- What's good for you, what's good for me. The eyes know what we need.
“They know, but I don’t know,” Stepan laughed.
The peasant also laughed:
- You know! How you do not know. And we know, and they know.
The old man disappeared, everything was confused and painfully twisted in his head. There is only one painful desire left: to quickly get to some river and drink plenty of water... But this desire is no longer there, it only hurts again. Lord, it hurts!.. My soul grieves.
But again - through the pain - I remembered, or it seems all this: Stepan came to the Solovetsky Monastery. And he entered the temple.
-What Zosima? - asked the monk.
- And there!.. Well, you go to pray - and you don’t know to whom. From the Cossacks?
- From the Cossacks.
- Here is Zosima.
Stepan knelt down in front of the icon of the saint. He crossed himself... And suddenly the saint thundered at him from the wall:
- Thief, traitor, cross-criminal, murderer!.. You have forgotten the holy cathedral church and the Orthodox Christian faith!..
Hurt! The heart is torn - it resists the terrible judgment, does not want to accept it. He inspires horror, this trial, horror and numbness. Better to die, better not to be, that's all. ( Vasily Shukshin"I have come to give you freedom." Novel. M.: Sovremennik, 1982. 383 p.)

A wanderer wanders through Rus', heading to the Solovetsky monastery, to the White Sea islands

One day Shukshin told Burkov how he thought to finish “Stepan Razin”: “I won’t physically endure Stepan’s execution,” Shukshin admitted (he still firmly decided to act in the film himself; Razin was his). It will be like this. A wanderer wanders through Rus', heading to the Solovetsky Monastery, to the White Sea islands, to worship the saints. And Saint Zosima of Solovetsky was the patron saint of the Cossacks, so they believed. After all, Razin himself twice went from the Don on a pilgrimage to Solovki. Stepan once meets this unknown wanderer and gives him a bag with something heavy and round for his journey. Finally the pilgrim reaches Solovki. He says to the brethren: he asked me to pray for him, his soul, Stepan Timofeevich Razin. They answer him: he walked for a long time, dear man, since the ataman is no longer there, he was executed by the king. But here is a gift from him to the monastery, the guest answers and takes out a golden dish from the bag. It flashed brightly among the gray stone walls of the monastery refectory. It shone like the sun. And this golden light was cheerful and festive..." ( Tyurin Yuri. Cinematography by Vasily Shukshin. Moscow. Publishing house "Art". 1984)

Solovetsky prose: a list of writers, prose writers, writers and journalists who wrote about Solovki and the events around them...

Agarkov Alexander Amfitheatrov Alexander Baratynsky Evgeny Barkov Alfred Barsky Lev Belov Vasily Bogdanov Evgeny Weil Petr Varlamov Alexey Vilk Mariush Vladimov Georgy Volina Margarita Geyser Matvey Gilyarovsky Vladimir Golovanov Yaroslav Golosovsky Sergey Gumilyov Lev Dahl Vladimir Danilevsky Grigory Zamyatin Evgeny Zalygin Sergey Zverev Yuri Zlobin Stepan Ka Verin Benjamin

On April 24, 1671 he was captured Stepan Razin- leader of the popular uprising of 1670-1671. The Tsar's commanders took the Cossack to the capital, where the prisoner was brutally tortured and eventually executed. About the good intentions of a national hero and his courage in the face of death Vasily Shukshin wrote the novel “I came to give you freedom”: from the point of view of the classic, Razin is a champion of justice and defender of the Russian people. AiF.ru publishes a fragment from the book (AST publishing house, 2009).

And all forty forty of Moscow began to hum again. Razin was brought to Moscow. Three hundred foot archers with unfurled banners marched ahead. Then Stepan rode on a large cart with a gallows. Under this gallows, from the crossbar of which a noose hung, the formidable chieftain was crucified - his arms, legs and neck were chained to the pillars and to the crossbar of the gallows. He was dressed in rags, without boots, in white stockings. Behind the cart, also chained to it by the neck, walked Frol Razin.

The cart was pulled by three suited (black) horses. Behind the cart, a little further away, rode Don Cossacks on horseback, led by Korney and Mikhaila Samarenin. The unprecedented procession was also concluded by archers with guns, muzzles pointing downwards. Stepan did not look around. It was as if he was thinking about some big thought, and it occupied him so much that he had neither the desire nor the time to see what was going on around him.

Writer, director and actor Vasily Shukshin. 1973 Photo: RIA Novosti

So they were brought into the Kremlin and taken to the Zemsky Prikaz. And they immediately began the interrogation. The king did not order to delay.

Well? - the Duma clerk said gloomily and solemnly. - Tell me... Thief, murderer. How did you start everything?.. Who did you conspire with?

Write,” said Stepan. - Take a large piece of paper and write.

What to write? - the clerk prepared himself.

Three letters. Great ones. And bring them quickly to the Grand Duke of all.

Don't anger them, brother! - Frol begged. - What are you talking about?

What you! - Stepan was feignedly amazed. - We are with the king!.. And you need to talk briefly with kings. And then they get angry. I know.

The brothers were taken to the basement. They started working on Stepan first. They lifted me on the rack: they tied my hands behind my back and pulled me to the ceiling with the free end of the belt. The legs were also tied, a log was pushed between the legs, one end of which was secured. One of the executioners sat on the other, free, raised above the floor - his body stretched out, his arms twisted out of their joints, the muscles on his back tensed and swelled.

The whip master took his weapon, stepped back, swung the whip with both hands above his head, ran up, screamed and sharply, with a twist, dropped the tarred whip onto his back. The blow left a brown scar along the back, which began to swell and ooze blood. A spasm passed through Stepan's body. The executioner again stepped back a little, again jumped up and screamed - and the second blow cut the skin next to the first. It looked as if a belt had been cut out of my back.

The master knew his business. The third, fourth, fifth blow... Stepan was silent. Blood was already pouring in streams from his back. The rawhide end of the belt had softened with blood and stopped cutting the skin. The executioner changed the whip.

Will you speak? - the clerk asked after each blow.

Stepan was silent.

The sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth - whistling, sticking, terrible blows. Stepan's persistence provoked the executioner. He was a famous craftsman and then he became embittered. He also changed the second whip.

Frol was in the same basement, in the corner. He didn't look at his brother. I heard the blows of the whip, every time I shuddered and crossed myself. But he didn’t hear Stepan make a single sound. The executioner's assistant, sitting on a log, counted twenty blows.

Fragment of Boris Kustodiev’s painting “Stepan Razin”. 1918

Stepan was in a state of oblivion, his head dropped on his chest. There was no living space on my back. They took it off and doused it with water. He took a deep breath. They raised Frol.

After three or four blows, Frol groaned loudly.

Be patient, brother,” Stepan said seriously and anxiously. - We had a nice walk - we must be patient. The whip is not an Archangel; it will not take out your soul. Think that it doesn't hurt. It hurts, but you think: “But it doesn’t hurt me.” What is this? - like a flea bit me, by God! They don't know how to hit.

After twelve blows, Frol lost consciousness. They took him down, threw him on the straw, and also doused him with water. They began to burn coal in the braziers. They burned it, tied Stepan’s hands in front, pushed a log through his legs and arms, scattered hot coals onto an iron sheet and laid Stepan’s back on them.

Oh!.. - he exclaimed. - This is enough! Come on, sit down on a log - so that it gets to your bones... Right! I haven’t been to the bathhouse for a long time - I needed to warm up my bones. Oh... so! Oh, sons of bitches, they really know how...

Where did you bury the gold? Who did you text with? - asked the clerk. -Where are the letters? Where did they write from?..

Wait, deacon, let me warm myself up! Oh, damn you!.. In God's name, I never knew such a bathhouse - I could have warmed someone... A glorious bathhouse!

This torture also yielded nothing.

An excerpt from Vasily Shukshin’s novel “I came to give you freedom”

Vasily Shukshin

Stenka Razin

His name was Vasek. Vaseka was: twenty-four years old, one eighty-five tall, a large duck nose... and an impossible character. He was a very strange guy - Vasek.

He did a lot of different jobs after the army! Shepherd, carpenter, trailer operator, fireman at a brick factory. At one time he accompanied tourists through the surrounding mountains. I didn't like it anywhere. After working for a month or two in a new place, Vaseka came to the office and took the payment.

– You’re still an incomprehensible person, Vasek. Why do you live like this? - they were interested in the office.

Vaseka, looking somewhere above the clerks, explained briefly:

- Because I'm talented.

The clerks, polite people, turned away, hiding their smiles. And Vaseka, casually putting the money in his pocket (he despised money), left. And he walked along the alley with an independent air.

- Again? - they asked him.

- What now"?

- Did you quit?

- Yes sir! – Vaseka trumped like a military man – Any more questions?

- Are you going to make dolls? Heh...

Vaseka did not talk to anyone about this topic - about dolls.

At home, Vaseka gave the money to his mother and said:

- Lord!.. Well, what should I do with you, Kolomna Versta? You are such a crane! A?

Vaseka shrugged his shoulders: he himself did not yet know what to do now - where else to go to work.

A week or two passed, and the case was found.

– Are you going to study accounting?

- Only... this is very serious!

- Why these exclamations?

“Debit... Credit... Incoming... Expense... Entry... Bypass... - And money! money! money!.."

Vasek lasted four days. Then he got up and left straight from class.

“It’s funny,” he said. He understood absolutely nothing about the brilliant science of economic accounting.

Recently, Vaseka worked as a hammerman. And then, after swinging a heavy sledgehammer for two weeks, Vaseka carefully placed it on the workbench and said to the blacksmith:

- Why?

- There is no soul in work.

“Yap,” said the blacksmith. - Get out of here.

Vaseka looked at the old blacksmith in amazement.

– Why do you immediately get personal?

- Balabolka, if not blabbermouth. What do you understand about hardware? “There is no soul”... Even anger takes over.

– What is there to understand? I can give you as many of these horseshoes as you want without any understanding.

- Maybe you can try?

Vaseka heated a piece of iron, quite deftly forged a horseshoe, cooled it in water and gave it to the old man.

The blacksmith easily crushed it in his hands like lead and threw it out of the forge.

- Go shoe a cow with such a horseshoe.

Vaseka took the horseshoe made by the old man and tried to bend it too, but it didn’t work out that way.

- Nothing.

Vaseka remained in the forge.

“You, Vaseka, are nothing but a talker,” the blacksmith told him. – Why do you, for example, tell everyone that you are talented?

– It’s true: I’m very talented.

-Where is your work done?

“I don’t show it to anyone, of course.”

- Why?

- They do not understand. Only Zakharych understands.

The next day, Vasek brought to the forge some kind of thing the size of a fist, wrapped in a rag.

The blacksmith unwrapped the rag... and placed it on the huge palm of a man carved from wood. The man was sitting on a log, resting his hands on his knees. He lowered his head into his hands; the face is not visible. On the little man’s back, under a cotton shirt – blue with white polka dots – sharp shoulder blades stick out. Thin, black arms, shaggy hair with tan marks. The shirt was also burnt in several places. The neck is thin and sinewy.

The blacksmith looked at him for a long time.

“Smolokur,” he said.

- Yeah. – Vaseka swallowed with a dry throat.

- There are no such people now.

- I know.

- And I remember these. What is he?.. Thinking or what?

- Sings a song.

“I remember those,” the blacksmith said again. - How do you know them?

- They told me.

The blacksmith returned the tar smoker to Vasya.

- Similar.

- What's this! – Vasek exclaimed, wrapping the tar smoker in a rag. - Do I really have those!

- Are they all tar smokers?

- Why?.. There is a soldier, there is one artist, three... another soldier, wounded. And now I’m cutting out Stenka Razin.

– Who did you study with?

- And myself... no one.

- How do you know about people? About the artist, for example...

– I know everything about people. – Vaseka proudly looked down at the old man. - They are all terribly simple.

- Look like that! - the blacksmith exclaimed and laughed.

– I’ll do Stenka soon... you’ll see.

– People laugh at you.

- It's nothing. – Vaseka blew his nose into a handkerchief. - Actually, they love me. And I love them too.

The blacksmith laughed again.

- What a fool you are, Vasek! He says to himself that he is loved! Who does this?

- I’m ashamed to say that.

- Why ashamed? I love them too. I even love them more.

-What song does he sing? – the blacksmith asked without any transition.

- Smolokur? About Ermak Timofeich.

– Where did you see the artist?

- In the movie. – Vaseka grabbed a coal from the forge with tongs and lit it. - I love women. Beautiful, of course.

- And they you?

Vasek blushed slightly.

- Here I find it difficult to tell you.

- Heh!.. - The blacksmith stood at the anvil. – You’re a wonderful guy, Vasek! But it's interesting to talk to you. Tell me: what benefit is it to you that you cut out this tar? It's still a doll.

Vasek said nothing to this. He took the hammer and also stood at the anvil.

-Can’t answer?

- Don't want. “I get nervous when people say that,” Vasek replied.

...Vaseka always walked quickly from work. He waved his arms - long, awkward. He didn't get tired at all in the forge. He walked in step - like a march - and sang along:

Let them say that I fix buckets,

Eh, let them say that I charge dearly!

Two kopecks - bottom,

Three kopecks - side...

- Hello, Vasek! - they greeted him.

“Great,” Vasek answered.

At home he had a quick dinner, went to the upper room and did not come out until the morning: he cut out Stenka Razin.

Vadim Zakharovich, a retired teacher who lived next door, told him a lot about Stenka. Zakharych, as Vaseka called him, was a kind-hearted man. He was the first to say that Vasek was talented. He came to Vasek every evening and told Russian history. Zakharych was lonely and sad without work. Lately I've started drinking. Vasek deeply respected the old man. Until late at night he sat on the bench, legs tucked under him, not moving - listening to about Stenka.

-... He was a strong man, broad in the shoulders, light on his feet... a little pockmarked. He dressed the same as all the Cossacks. He didn’t like, you know, all the different brocades... and so on. It was a man! As soon as he turns around, as he glances from under his brows, the grass disappears. But he was just!.. Once they got in such a way that there was nothing to eat in the army. They cooked horse meat. Well, there wasn’t enough horse meat for everyone. And Stenka saw: one Cossack was completely emaciated, sitting by the fire, poor, hanging his head: he had finally reached it. Stenka pushed him and gave him his piece of meat. “Here,” he says, “eat.” He sees that the chieftain himself has turned black from hunger. “Eat yourself, dad. You need it more." - “Take it!” - "No". Then Stenka grabbed his saber - it whistled in the air: “Mother’s soul in three gentlemen!.. I told someone: take it!” The Cossack ate the meat. Eh?.. You are dear, dear man... you had a soul.

Vasek, with moist eyes, listened.

- And he’s like a princess! – he exclaimed quietly, in a whisper. - He took it to the Volga and threw it...

- Princess!.. - Zakharych, a frail old man with a small dry head, shouted: - Yes, he abandoned these fat-bellied boyars like that! He did them the way he wanted! Understood? Saryn on the kitchka! That's all.