This story is about a myth and a man who wanted to tell the truth. And about a system that preserved myths and destroyed living people who spoke the truth. And also about what not only Soviet but also world cinema lost, about the millions of viewers who never saw Shukshin’s film “Stepan Razin.”

The beginning of this story can be dated back to 1630, when Stepan Razin was born at the cordon of Left Bank Ukraine and the region of the Don Army. The same one who later drowned the “Persian princess” in the Volga. His father was one of the good, homely Cossacks, but the situation with his mother was unclear. According to some sources, she is a captive Turkish woman, and according to others, she is a Nash woman from Slobozhansky, Matryona Govorukha. Stepan had remarkable natural abilities. In addition, he knew spoken Kalmyk, Tatar and Polish languages, and understood Persian. It is not precisely established whether he was literate, but most likely he had reading and writing skills. He went down in history as a dashing chieftain who made successful predatory expeditions “for zipuns.” This is evidenced by the loud robber glory of Stepan Razin on the Volga, and especially by the Persian campaign of 1668-1669. So, in the battle at Pig Island, he completely defeated the experienced Persian naval commander Mamed Khan. Of the 50 Persian ships with a crew of 4 thousand people, only three ships survived. The Razins captured the son of Mamed Khan, and, according to legend, his daughter as well. It was popular rumor that turned her into a “Persian princess.”

Stepan Razin had a tough temper, and was often overcome by fits of uncontrollable anger. He had a serious reputation as a thug and ruled his band of bandits brutally. The Dutch master shipbuilder Streis, who saw Razin and his comrades in Astrakhan just after the Persian campaign, left the following description: “His appearance is majestic, his posture is noble, and his expression is proud; tall, pockmarked face. He had the ability to instill fear along with love. Whatever he ordered was carried out unquestioningly and without complaint.”

Moscow considered it best to forgive the robbers their guilt and let them go to the Don, receiving their share of the loot in Persia and taking away firearms, primarily guns. Razin behaved independently, but clearly did not speak out against the government, although something in his behavior even then was alarming. The swing was higher than that of a robber. In Tsaritsyn, for example, he tore the beard of the local governor-nobleman and ordered the people not to oppress the people, since he, Razin, would return and then everything would be bad for everyone who was against the people...

But from that moment on, a friendly chorus of textbooks and other literature from the Soviet era insisted that Ataman Stenka Razin became the leader of the class struggle, wise and noble, fighting for the interests of the people against common class oppressors. The fact is that in 1670, Stepan Timofeevich Razin radically changed his fate, raising a large-scale uprising in the Middle Volga region, where after the Persian campaign he had unquestioned authority. The uprising was, of course, suppressed, and Stenka Razin was handed over to the punishers by the rich Don Cossack women. The people's leader was executed in Moscow by a brutal death by quartering.

The Soviet government needed its own ideology and its own “holy martyrs” for the people’s happiness. Among them was Stenka Razin.

Now let's fast forward to the twentieth century. In August 1967 at the film studio. Gorky discussed the script by Vasily Shukshin “Stepan Razin”. The time was post-Khrushchev, incomprehensible, officials were at a loss: what to allow, what to prohibit. High circles, led by USSR Minister of Culture P. Demichev, expressed their dissatisfaction with Tarkovsky’s film “Andrei Rublev.” After showing the draft version, the film was recognized as cruel, naturalistic, and most importantly, “degrading to the dignity of the Russian people.”

The scenario proposed by Shukshin concerned an even more complex and controversial page in Russian history, cruel and bloody. However, the name of Stepan Razin lulled the vigilance of party art officials. The script was enthusiastically praised for its “grandiose folk characters,” “naked drama,” and “magnificent language.”

At the film studio level, Vasily Makarovich received approval and hope for permission to stage the production. But the script went further to the approving authorities, where the Soviet censors were not at all stupid, but very well-read and understanding. They quickly realized that Shukshin was going to make a film not only about a martyr, but also about a torturer. He wants to get closer to the historical truth, but this cannot be allowed.

Back in the second half of the 19th century, the famous Russian and Ukrainian historian N.I. Kostomarov gave the following definition of Stenka Razin’s personality: “There was something charming in his speeches. The crowd sensed in him some kind of unprecedented power that could not be resisted, and called him a sorcerer. Cruel and bloodthirsty, he amused himself with both the suffering of others and his own. Law, society, church - everything that constrains a person’s personal motives has become hateful to him. Compassion, honor, generosity were unfamiliar to him. He was a degenerate of an unfortunate cast of society; his whole being was permeated with revenge and hatred of this society.” Of course, allowances should be made for some bias of the liberal Kostomarov, who denied violent struggle, but in general the portrait is captured correctly, especially of hatred and revenge against the entire society. The fact is that Kostomarov read and analyzed historical documents. Shukshin could not have known Kostomarov’s works; they were not promoted in the Soviet Union and belonged to closed funds. But Shukshin read the documents (the censorship made a mistake this time) and came to conclusions similar to Kostomarov’s statement. I also read these documents, published in special collections known only to historians. The amount of brutality on both sides defies easy description. And Stenka Razin can be seen not only as a people’s leader, but also as a “beast from the abyss.”

Shukshin wanted to show this contradiction, the complexity of the folk nature of that era and, thus, violated the stereotype of the martyr hero. The reaction of one of the censors is typical. Quoting a line from the script: “A quick stream of blood flowed at Stepan’s feet, overtaking him,” the censor makes his remark: “Shukshin has gone crazy!” Yes, Shukshin, like Griboyedov’s Chatsky, turned out to have “woe from his mind.” Trying to explain his position, he was completely open to devastating criticism addressed to him: “Razin was cruel, sometimes senselessly cruel... I didn’t give even a tenth of what is in the documents. Here they asked: when there is such a scene - fifteen people in a row, knocking heads, blood flowing... How to imagine this? One must, obviously, rely on a sense of proportion. We will find the measure that will allow us to imagine this. But the conversation about cruelty must remain to some extent.”

Vasily Makarovich would be able to make a film not only about Stepan Razin, but also about the dark sides of the character of the Russian people, about the inhumanity of civil wars. This was scary for the system of “Soviet realism”.

Stepan Razin was executed on Red Square. “They put him between two boards. The executioner first cut off his right arm at the elbow, then his left leg at the knee..."

Shukshin was also “executed” gradually. Having received preliminary permission, Vasily Makarovich began to grow a “Razin” beard, and with the film crew he traveled all over the Volga, selecting locations for working on the film. In 1971, by decision from above, all work on the painting was strictly prohibited. With an exacerbation of the ulcer, Shukshin was admitted to the hospital, but then Sergei Bondarchuk offered his help. You just need to make a picture “about modernity” - and the ban on the film about Razin will be lifted. The untreated Shukshin ran away from the hospital straight to Mosfilm. There was still “reserve” money left for one inexpensive film. So in 1973 “Kalina Krasnaya” appeared.

Vasily Makarovich felt that he had little time left. With great reluctance, he gave in to Bondarchuk’s requests to star in his film “They Fought for the Motherland.” And all in order to allow filming of Razin. Slowly moving through numerous bureaucratic obstacles, things began to progress. By that time, the script about Razin had turned into an independent novel, “I Came to Give You Freedom.” They promised to publish the novel, but it’s easier to make a film adaptation of a literary work. In the summer of 1974, official permission came to launch “Stepan Razin”. For several days, Shukshin left Bondarchuk’s filming for Moscow to solve his problems. He was full of creative plans and met with the cameraman and artist of the future film. But this was also his last meeting with his family. Shukshin’s heart could not withstand the overload...

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. But 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 (up 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? - asked an old peasant he met.
- 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 - 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 a golden dish out of 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 Pyotr Varlamov Alexey Wilk Mariush Vladimov Georgy Volina Margarita Geyser Matvey Gilyarovsky Vladimir Golovanov Yaroslav Golosovsky Sergey Gumilyov Lev Dal Vladimir Danilevsky Grigory Zamyatin Evgeny Zalygin Sergey Zverev Yuri Zlobin Stepan Kaverin Veniamin

VASILY SHUKSHIN

I HAVE COME 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. 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 a lot? 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...
- Kindness, where are we going?! - 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! God grant that we defeat 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 ataman 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 right away, 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, he climbed up with all his 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 are 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! - Only 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, succinct 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. The watch - look!
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. Bonfires blazed here and there; 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

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 how! - 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. “They actually 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 they 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. Vaseka 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.