/ world at the moment information/ The nice lack of Russia and Slavism
On March 14, only a day earlier than his 78th birthday, Valentin Grigorievich Rasputin closed his eyes perpetually in a Moscow clinic. He left this world as one enormous sigh for him. And for Russia, the place he, along with his work, was the non secular measure of consciousness, humanity and love for the motherland. An immeasurably deep author, Valentin Rasputin, the writer of the stunning novels “Reside and Bear in mind”, “Farewell to Mateora”, “Cash for Maria”, “On this similar land” and others, wrote his identify in each Russian coronary heart. He wrote it down with the imperishable Cyrillic letters of his writing phrase, of his expertise, comparable solely to the dimensions of huge Siberia, whose native son and whose satisfaction and ache he was, is and can be.
The author and man Valentin Rasputin managed, within the spirit of the nice Russian custom in literature, to rework the everlasting Russian three – reward, life and creativity, into an emblem of the genuine measure of filial love for the fatherland, of an timeless blood relationship with the place of origin, with a debt to it, with the sufferings and joys of his personal individuals. Even the author’s silence for him was not an expression of artistic exhaustion or stagnation, however a secret signal of that vitality during which anger, protest and risk are the thundering combination of a password, comprehensible to each Slavic soul: “The persons are silent!” And after this password, at all times, ever for the reason that time of Gogol, via Pushkin and Lermontov, via Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky and Turgenev, via Blok and Yesenin, the sons of Russia have appeared on the sky and the darkened horizons above the Russian land, made the signal of the cross and brought the trail of debt. “Why is it patriotism for us, requested Valentin Grigorievich. And why do we now have love for our mom, why do we now have a holy feeling for her for all times? And he answered: She gave start to you, taught you to stroll upright by yourself ft, guided you to life… Love for the motherland is similar as the sensation for the mom, everlasting gratitude and everlasting eager for the closest creature on earth. Motherland provides us all the pieces we now have, each cell of our physique, each mole and each fold of thought. Patriotism isn’t solely a continuing feeling of reference to one’s land, however above all an obligation to it, a priority for its non secular, ethical and bodily well-being, a clock-like alignment of the guts with its sufferings and joys…”
I copy the quote from Valentin Grigorievich’s insightful speech concerning the motherland, about love for the fatherland and filial responsibility – this most sacred subject for each Orthodox individuals, and I really feel the joy of my coronary heart. It acknowledges the metal clang of that unbreakable non secular chain which binds us collectively and makes us brothers. And which has damaged the tooth of a couple of wolf’s jaw.
„…A person in his homeland is sort of a enormous household image with a body, the place the ancestors control the lives and actions of the descendants. And the place the generic orders are broadly outlined… – continues the nice wordsmith. That’s the reason it’s kinlessness that requires making the entire world like itself. as a result of it’s simpler to handle that manner – with the assistance of cash, lies and weapons. All of the troubles of Russia come from not permitting her to reside along with her personal head…”
On March 15, over Russia and the Slavic world, the unhappy information of the demise of this biggest modern author of the Cyrillic peoples got here crashing down. On March 16 and 17, Moscow stated goodbye to him, mourned him together with all of Russia. And the bells of the “Christ the Savior” temple rang for repose. And the prayer of the Patriarch of Moscow and All Russia Kirill flew to the heavens: “God relaxation your newly departed servant Valentin, and provides him everlasting reminiscence.”
On March 18 in Irkutsk, on the grave of the tragically killed Maria, the one daughter of the author, Valentin Rasputin merged with the Russian land, the non secular code of which he preserved in his books. An adept researcher of the Russian soul, a seer and quiet soothsayer of the disturbing processes in Russian society and the world, a Russian individual in all dimensions of this idea, he had one concern: the destiny of Russia. Valentin Grigorievich knew concerning the so-called international undertaking what many contemporaries solely guessed about: “After the invention of America, he wroteand the creation there of a robust state of cosmopolitanism, the breakthrough in Russia turned the principle occasion within the second half of the final century… They overthrew the fatherland and the predators pounced on it – an image disgusting and unseen… An period of the border of life got here, the one picture on which is the Apocalypse within the revelations of John the Theologian”.
It sounds determined if the nice author had not additionally indicated the trail of salvation: homeland, spirit, reminiscence and religion. “The motherland, it’s to start with the land of the spirit, during which the previous and the way forward for your individuals come collectively, and solely after that it’s a territory… The motherland is larger than us. Stronger than us. Higher than us. Her destiny is in our arms and we should be worthy of her”.
What an inimitable and clever lesson in patriotism! What a miraculous salve for each wounded human coronary heart looking for treatment and therapeutic from the poisons and wounds of parentlessness, in instances when the collision is crushing and the losses are dire, and the determined, the captives, and the poisoned by the black magic of spiritlessness have gotten increasingly more as their identify is legion. However the nice author Valentin Rasputin, that Siberian emperor of the Russian spirit, appeared to repeat the prophetic directions of the Tsar Saint Alexander Nevsky: “God doesn’t lie in energy, however in fact!” And Valentin Grigorievich provides: “The nationwide thought shouldn’t be sought. It’s earlier than our eyes. That is governance within the identify of our personal, not international pursuits. Restoration and safety of conventional values, throwing out all those that corrupt and dumb the individuals, assist of the Russian identify, which incorporates in itself, now unclaimed and unused energy… Overseas pilgrimage should be stopped, the invasion of the international ugly ‘tradition’, to introduce an order that may observe the route of our historic and non secular building, not its destruction. Political fraudsters at all times twist issues in order that they substitute the unique nationwide thought with a international one, or so invalidate it that not even a letter stays of it.”
Ilya Ehrenburg as soon as wrote that his acquaintance with Picasso was not a second within the biography of the nice artist, within the sense that for the biographers of the writer of “Guernica” his conferences with the artist can be nothing however an insignificant ellipsis. Might God forgive me for the audacity to discuss with the instance of the 2 nice artists, however I’m about to share with the readers the immodesty of a much more drastic scale. Sure, I knew Valentin Rasputin. And with out being Ehrenburg, I can echo his phrases that I report this truth as a tremendous reward in my life. Right here I can’t speak about his go to to my house, concerning the Bulgarian presence in his workplace, concerning the phrases of gratitude repeated each time we heard one another, about my unbelievable shock and pleasure when as soon as, within the Nationwide Palace of Tradition, in the course of the intermission of ” Swan Lake,” my cellphone all of a sudden rang and I heard his muffled voice repeat: “Mincho, maintain on!” He cherished Bulgaria as sincerely cherished by his shut comrades Vasily Belov and Ernst Safonov.
To him and to them we have been related by that inexplicable electrical energy which flows between males who serve the perfect of justice, however whose hearts really feel the lurking malice of traps and the icy breath of the abyss. It was a time when Bulgaria and Russia drifted aside like drifting items of ice within the sea of sly hatred known as rapprochement. I used to be a part of the Bulgarian cultural delegation on the Slavic writing competition in Minsk in 1990. A number of the cultured males who had subscribed months earlier than for such participation already sensed the destiny of the ship, and their heightened intuition for self-preservation had pierced their in any other case impenetrable ideological armor. One such “clever man” from the “Union of Byzantine Artists, Draftsmen’s Part”, because the poet would say, all of a sudden received sciatica, and that is how I received fortunate. This in some way merged with the euphoria that I skilled from the discharge of the primary subject of Zora journal on Might 14, 1990 – the newspaper I had dreamed and dreamed about, and the discharge of which I celebrated just like the start of a first-born son. So, on the wings of youth and pleasure, I flew to Murmansk for the opening of the monument to the holy brothers Cyril and Methodius, there, far to the north. I nonetheless bear in mind how lengthy I used to be shocked by the kiss of a northern Olesya and particularly by her reward – a protracted cucumber of the “Gergana” selection. Whereas I used to be fascinated by its significance, it was nonetheless defined to me that it was from the greenhouse in Murmansk and that it was very invaluable with the nutritional vitamins it contained. Thanks, I stated, and flew to Minsk, the place I had my first assembly with Valentin Grigorievich. From the speech he delivered on the opening of the vacations, I remembered that “man is born from the cells of goodness”. I gave him the primary subject of “Zora” journal and requested for a textual content (it was positioned in subject 3 of “Zora” journal from June 7, 1990). Thus started our acquaintance.
I listened to the writer of “Cash for Mary” as he spoke concerning the nice work of the Slavic educators, about us, the Bulgarians as heirs and continuers of this non secular feat, about our place within the cultural and non secular lifetime of Russia – phrases that resonated solely with those that till then just one different pal of Bulgaria, academician Dmitry Likhachov, had spoken. “Russia and Bulgaria might have completely different political methods, however all the identical – crucial factor will exist: our non secular ties. And our principal assist are our Slavic first lecturers Cyril and Methodius – the creators of the alphabet that all of us use. We’re all descended from that sacred alphabet. We expect, we write with its assist, we proceed via it. This isn’t unintended. So our fates could not be extra completely different. You, the Bulgarians, are heirs of this tradition, you proceed it and present us how one can be each heirs and perpetuators of this tradition on the similar time”.
I do not preserve a diary. However on March 12 of this 12 months, after I was getting ready the plan for the following subject, I known as Nadya Popova, the editor-in-chief of Slovoto dnes, to remind her, reminded by the author Kiril Momchilov, to not by chance miss the date March 15, the birthday of Valentin Grigorievich Rasputin. Then I known as Olga Nikolaevna in Moscow, we talked once more concerning the author’s birthday and collectively we famous the inconvenience of the large time distinction with Irkutsk, which continues to be an impediment or not less than an excuse for a relationship with Valentin Grigorievich. None of us suspected what adopted.
But, maybe souls do talk? And possibly demise actually is not only a level? However sprint, dot or ellipsis, telegrams along with her Morse code at all times discover the deal with and by no means miss a recipient.
Neisse. It is time for this messy narrative to cease. Particularly since She solely respects epitaphs. Typically the notes too. I have a look at the martyrology with the names expensive to my coronary heart, together with Valentin Grigorievich Rasputin, and I really feel how my coronary heart dictates a observe on the white subject of my conscience: thanks, All-Good and Almighty, for guiding me to stroll in my life with worthy males: Nikolay Haitov, Valentin Rasputin, Georgi Bliznakov, Vasily Belov, Venelin Mechkov, Ernst Safonov, Hristo Maleev, Venceslav Nachev, Todor Tsonev, Lenko Milanov, Hristo Tsachev, Stoycho Stoychev…
Man is born from the cells of goodness, and the day from the rays of the daybreak.
Summer season 2015. I wrote, I, the unworthy, Mincho Minchev.
in “Nova Zora”, no. 12/2015
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