Whose Russia is mourned by “misters“?“Were all of us a man of the people, children of a family labor …“, - vigorously sang the Soviet workers at May Day and November demonstrations in which many participated “for soul“, and to the rest district committees - Communist Party committees unostentatiously hinted that “action political, awfully important and is better for you, children, geese not to tease and take the most active part!“ Went, “took part“, then “accepted on a breast“ and celebrations passed not so kazenno - boringly.
Then very clever people explained to us that 70 years we went, to put it mildly, not to that party, “which most correct“, and we without special regret amicably curtailed red flags, banners with the inscriptions “Glory of CPSU!“ and is proud uplifted flags and banners of other flowers over the country. And as to long for heroic Communards and commissioners it became not just indecent, but sometimes and dangerously, we with touching warmth and tenderness amicably began to remember and regret for “Russia which we lost“. Russia in which brilliant kavalergarda caracoled on a parade-ground - parades elegant ladies in air, improbable beauty dresses danced with magnificent hussars a mazourka, and around, naturally, the sparkling parquets, candles, diamonds, fans and “widow Clicquot“ champagne. All were rich, happy, Russia “fed all Europe with bread and oil“ and evenings in it, of course, were delightful.
“Eh, high living was! And these communists ruined everything …“ - our intellectuals were distressed and the people are simpler, having amicably remembered the “noble, noble blood“. Someone started studying “family tree“, someone began resolute fight for return of plants - palaces - the steamships which are taken away from great-grandfathers by spiteful and greedy commissioners, and someone, without philosophizing crafty, at all just bought the “present“ certificates on a high origin.
And whether at someone conscience appeared more, whether the imagination is poorer, declared themselves descendants of “the real Cossacks“, and crowds of masked “Cossack captains“ with obscure crosses and “bronzuletka“ on valiant breasts through towns and villages went on a spree. Beautifully, even somewhere it is patriotic, but, dear “misters“ in the shabby bast shoes whether it is worth being distressed so across that Russia - the mother whom the majority of you - sorry, sorry, from us - never and had?
“And what was? “ - it is puzzled and even the young Russian who is already trying on in sweet dreams red hussar mentik the imagined ancestor slightly with insult will ask. And there was the fact that we, there are a lot of years diligently bringing in questionnaires “out of workers, peasants and employees“, now also diligently forget. That whose fathers and mothers could brag of a high noble origin, our grandfathers practically “exhausted as a class“, that is shot “in cellars of ChK“, ruined in civil war, let rot in camps, and the remains of “color of the Russian nation“ attained the age far from the Homeland. Terribly, cruelly, but “game conditions“ were that, and won those years against the strongest - the simple people to which “zolotopogonnik“ already davny - to put it mildly, were not nice long ago.
And from what it is the man so on misters would get angry - that? And not because whether that there lived a man in a close kurny izbenka with a straw roof and an earth floor, with all children and members of household himself - the tenth, and in cold time and with cattle together; plowed - sowed, starved, did not know the word “kerosene“, saw candles only in church, and the kind barin of lackeys of sec. on a stable to death moreover also traded in them as cattle. Inventions, “red promotion“? Misters, count classics! “Children of a vault“ of Korolenko, “The Guttaperchivy boy“ of Grigorovich, the same “Vanka Zhukov“ Chekhov and many other books telling about a “happy“ share of the simple people at the father - the tsar.
It from surplus of happiness and from full inaction Vanka Zhukov wrote the well-known letter “on the village to the grandfather“: “Dear grandfather, Konstantin Makarovich! Make bozhetsky favor - take away me from here! “ It is, of course, cunning communists forced Nekrasov to write: “Whose groan is distributed over the great Russian river? This groan of songs at us is called …“ Turgenev speaking “how not to fall into despair at the sight of what is made at home?!“, took precisely dictation artful Ulyanov - Lenina. And words of other classic: “Times were worse, but was not more meanly!“ - are written - that long before “October revolution“... Yes, Nikita of Tolstoi had a happy childhood in the cozy noble estate, but the majority - that got more than severe fate of Vanka of Zhukov!
So to misters Radzinsky, Mikhalkov and many other sometimes it would be worth not only singing “of greatness of former Russia, sovereigns - emperors and the nobility“, but sometimes and to remember that all thrones kept all - on rustic shoulders. And also the fact that free education, an opportunity to make an outstanding career and many other not less pleasant things they received not from the father - the tsar, and from “the damned Soviet power“ which they as it appeared, all life quietly, but furiously hated! Our new dvoryanchik, it is proud sporting party-membership cards and singing from stands of “wise and dear Leonid Ilyich“ still yesterday. Burzhuychiki - that let and new, but still “is narrow their circle and they are scary far from the people“ …
badly to be “the ivana which are not remembering relationship“, but, it appears, to be ashamed of the “simple“ origin even more silly and more ridiculously and to a crow to ryaditsya in peacock feathers. And some maiden who is languidly rolling up charming eyes and dreaming to appear in brilliant St. Petersburg the 19th century should be more careful with dreams and a time machine - there were not only noisy balls on palace parquets in those days, and and close human log huts for the simple people and absolutely gloomy stables where lackeys deprived of civil rights mercilessly sekl whips. And maids domestic sometimes had a boring destiny at all …
A if is serious, then we absolutely ugly treat own history. We do not know and we do not want to know not only history of the great country, we and often have very foggy idea of history of own village and a family. Which of us can list surely the ancestors let not to the seventh, and at least to the fourth knee? It is thought, the majority already at the level of grandfathers and grandmas will begin to be confused - and it is very sad.
In times far now noble misters and people it is simpler, from generation to generation transferred oral and written legends about greatness and nice affairs of the dear ancestors. Which - to what we could at them and learn. To take, for example, the tetradaughter and without hurrying to write down everything that we know for the children and grandsons and we remember the roots. Then today`s young descendants of those who took in the forty fifth Berlin will be able distinctly to answer an unpretentious question, maybe: “And whom there was your grandfather?“ And we, I hope, we will be equally proud both shining kavalergardy, and the modest teacher of a provincial gymnasium, and the simple peasant in lime bast shoes - all our nice ancestors, work and which feats the power Russian got stronger and got prettier …