"Древнерусская тоска" (с)
Didn't like it at all. To my surprise, I discovered that Вячеслав Шишков is considered a famous classical Russian writer, and this book is characterized as one of the greatest in Russian literature. When I read it, I could not shake off an impression that the book was written in our time (somewhere in 2000s, for example) and by not very intelligent writer... (not "classical," anyway).
The book is depressive, boring, dark grey (despite the lush and unique natural beauty of Siberia, which is not reflected there in any pronounced way). It could have been very interesting as a chronicle of discovering and early exploration of Siberia, its very peculiar path of industrial development. Unfortunately, even these aspects are described in such manner that you can only wonder what is true and realistic there, and what is only a fictional fantasy of the author.
The language of the book is quite strange, too. Sometimes I thought that the author very cleverly mocked other famous Russian writers, because almost each new chapter looks like a clear post-modernistic imitation of this or that author in style. However, I realized later that the imitation was unintentional: Вячеслав Шишков just does not have his own style and voice, and he even did not try to follow one particular writing style within one book. Therefore, everything looks very secondary and mushed-up in style, in my opinion.
The story presents a couple of original and funny characters (Илья Сохатых, инженер Кук with his confused proverbs), but everyone else, including the main characters, are cardboardish and absolutely artificial.
The only interesting, thought-inspiring thing for me was this central episode with the mass execution of workers. There is a classical Майдан described there -- very detailed and distinct. Not even a revolution: a simple Майдан. I am sure that Russians who read this book of this famous Russian writer, лауреата Сталинской премии первой степени, for all these years in the USSR, perceived the poor peaceful workers as their fellow brothers, sympathized with them, and their deaths looked outrageous and horrific. How would Russians perceive this Siberian Майдан now, I wonder? Would they hate them as they hate now our "Небесная сотня"? (there was its own "Небесная сотня" in the book, yes). Would they consider this episode now as "stupid rebels poisoned by Western cookies are trying to overthrow the legitimate government"? And "they could simply change the job and not provoke soldiers who just did their rightful work"? Oh well...
I also like this one fragment as "good literature," you know (ONE! for the whole large book):
"Прощеное воскресенье началось честь честью – православные к обедне повалили. Солнце поднималось яркое, того гляди к полудню капели будут, снег белел ослепительно, и воздух по-весеннему пахуч.
Даже трезвон колоколов точно веселый пляс: это одноногий солдат Ефимка – чтоб ему – вот как раскамаривает!
«Четверть блина, четверть блина!» – задорно подбоченивались, выплясывали маленькие колокола.
«Полблина, полблина, полблина!» – приставали медногорлые середняки.
И основательно, не торопясь, бухал трехсотпудовый дядя:
«Блин!»
А одноногий звонарь Ефимка – ноздри вверх, улыбка до ушей и глаза лукавят – только веревочки подергивает да живой ногой доску с приводом от главного колокола прижимает. Одно Ефимке утешенье, одна слава – первеющий звонарь. Посмотрите-ка! Он весь в звонах-перезвонах: локти ходят, голова кивает, деревяшка пляшет, живая нога в доску бьет. Да прострели его насквозь из тридцати стволов – и не учувствует. И мертвый будет поливать в колокола:
Четверть блина, —
Полблина,
Четверть блина,
Полблина,
Блин, блин, блин!
И кажется Ефимке – все перед глазами пляшет: солнце, избы, лес. А вот и... ха-ха!.. Дедка Наум в новых собачьих рукавицах усердно в церковь шел, остановился против колокольни, сунул в сугроб палку да как начал трепака чесать. Потом вдруг – стоп – задрал к звонарю седую бородищу, крикнул:
– Эй ты, ирод! Чтоб те немазаным блином подавиться... В грех до обедни ввел!..
А штукарь Ефимка знай хохочет да наяривает:
Четверть блина, —
Полблина,
Четверть блина,
Полблина,
Блин, блин, блин!"