By Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, Bulat Okudzhava, Alexander Yashkin, Yury Nagibin, Nikolay Zhdanov, Vera Panova, Yury Kazakov
One other anthology of twentieth century Russian literature. no longer the easiest, yet nonetheless a few stable stories....
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Levers - Alexander Yashin
A gentle within the Window - Yury Nagibin
A journey domestic - Nikolay Zhdanov
An Incident at Krechetovka Station - Alexander Solzhenitsyn
Matryona's domestic - Alexander Solzhenitsyn
For the great of the reason - Alexander Solzhenitsyn
Good-bye, Schoolboy! - Bulat Okudzhava
Promoxys - Bulat Okudzhava
Seryozha - Vera Panova
The Fourth Daddy - Yury Nagibin
On the Island- Yury Kazakov
Read or Download Fifty Years of Russian Prose: From Pasternak to Solzhenitsyn (Volume 2) PDF
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Extra info for Fifty Years of Russian Prose: From Pasternak to Solzhenitsyn (Volume 2)
The sergeant is status on the trench front. "That's sufficient mendacity round within the dust, b o ys. " Silently we wake up. Kolya is long gone. he is working towards the h illo ck w the following Nina was once. From a distance I see her wake up from the soiled snow . the opposite woman lies there m otionless. Face up. sluggish ly and silently we pass over there. O ther infantrymen too. That used to be our first m ine. the 1st. O urs. warfare i have gotten to understand you, w ar. i have huge welts at the fingers of my arms and a humming noise in my head. I w ant to sleep. do you need me to omit every thing i have gotten used to? do you need to coach me to subm it myself unquestioningly? The screams of the com m anding o ffic e r— run, do, bellow "Y e s, s ir! " should you answer, fall do w n, craw l, go to sleep at the m arch. If there is the sound of a m ine— bury your self within the flooring, dig along with your nostril, head, ft, your w ho le physique, on the related tim e no longer exp eriencing fright, or maybe th inking . A tinful of barley soup— secrete gastric ju ice , prepare, grum ble, stuff your self, w ipe yo ur spoon at the grass. If com rades d ie — dig a grave, conceal it with earth, hearth m echanically into the a i r . . . thrice. i have already realized very much. I faux i am not hungry. I fake i am not chilly. I faux i am not sorry for someone. I basically are looking to sleep, sleep, sleep. Like a idiot, i have misplaced my spoon. a normal alum inum spoon. Tarnished, w ith a jagged side, yet nonetheless, a spoon. a really im portant merchandise . Now i've got not anything to devour w ith — I drink the soup instantly from the tin. And if it is kasha . . . i have tailored a section of w oo d. I consume my kasha with a bit of w ood. From w hom may possibly I ask one? each person guards his spoon. No one's a idiot right here. And m e, i've got a hunk of w ood. Sashka Zolotaryov makes notches on a stick. O ne notch for every casualty. Kolya G rin ch e n ko smiles croo kedly. "D o n 't w o rry, Sashka. T h e re 'll be adequate dames for e ve ry o n e . " Zolotaryov does not say something. i am silent. The G erm ans are silen t; at the present time a minimum of. Lieutenant Burakov is going round unshaven. i am certain it is for exhibit. W e've no longer been ordered to open hearth. there is a few type of convention occurring. O u r com m anding officer's making the rounds of the mortar crews. The mortars are within the trenches, in a hole . The trenches were dug in line with all of the rules. yet we do not examine the laws. The gunner G avrilov comes over and sits down close to me. He appears to be like on the cigarets i have rolled. "W h y are you smoking so m u ch? " "W h at of it? " "T h e w ind's blowing the sparks throughout. it really is already darkish, they're going to observe it," he says and appears approximately. I positioned out the butt at the sole of my shoe. The sparks begin flying round like firew o rks. without notice a six-barrel m ortar opens up at the Germ an aspect. The shells land with a thum p som e w right here at the back of us. G avrilo v is craw ling within the snow. "Y o u m o th e r. . . " he by surprise scream s. Explosion after e x plosion. Explosion after explosion. nearer and nearer. M y com rades are working prior me to the mortars. and i am sitting within the snow.