Vyazemsky had an apartment with windows on Tverskaya Boulevard. Pushkin loved to visit him. When he comes, he immediately jumps onto the windowsill, hangs out of the window and looks. Tea was served to him there too, on the window. Sometimes he will spend the night there. They even bought him a special mattress, but he didn’t recognize it. “Why,” he said, “such luxuries!” And he will push the mattress off the windowsill. And then he tosses and turns all night, preventing him from sleeping.
One day Gogol disguised himself as Pushkin, came to Pushkin and called.
Pushkin opened the door for him and shouted: “Look, Arina Rodionovna, I’ve come!”
Lermontov wanted to take his wife away from Pushkin. To the Caucasus. He kept looking at her from behind the column, looking... Suddenly he was ashamed of his desires. “Pushkin,” he thinks, “is a mirror of the Russian revolution, and I am a pig.” He went, knelt down in front of him and said: “Pushkin,” he said, “where is your dagger? Here is my chest!”
Pushkin laughed a lot!
Once Pushkin was shooting with Gogol.
Pushkin says: “You shoot first.” "How are you? No, I am!" "Oh, me?
So they didn’t start shooting.
Dostoevsky went to visit Gogol. I called. It was opened for him. “What are you talking about,” they say, “Fyodor Mikhailovich, Nikolai Vasilyevich has been dead for fifty years.”
“So what,” thought Dostoevsky, may he rest in heaven, “I, too, will die someday.”
Leo Tolstoy lived on Pushkin Square, and Herzen lived at the Nikitsky Gate.
Both of them often had to visit Tverskoy Boulevard on literary matters. And if they meet, it’s a disaster: Tolstoy will chase you and hit you in the head with a crutch at least once. And it also happened that five of them were pulled away, and Herzen was brought back to life from the fountain with water.
That’s why Pushkin went to visit Vyazemsky and sat in the window.
So this house was later called - Herzen's house.
Lermontov loved dogs very much. He also loved Natalya Nikolaevna Pushkina. Only most of all he loved Pushkin himself. I read his poems and always cried. He’ll cry, and then he’ll pull out his saber and start chopping up the pillows.
Here, the most beloved dog, don’t get caught - about forty of them were somehow killed. But Pushkin did not cry at any of his poems. Never.
One day Gogol dressed up as Pushkin, put on a lion skin on top and went to a masquerade party. F.M. Dostoevsky, may he rest in heaven, saw him and shouted: “I bet it’s Leo Tolstoy! I bet it’s Leo Tolstoy!”
Lermontov was in love with Natalya Nikolaevna Pushkina, but never spoke to her. One day he took his dogs for a walk on Tverskaya Boulevard. Well, naturally, they squeal, bite him, and get him all dirty. And then I meet her and her sister Alexandrina. “Look,” he says, “masher, some people want to complicate their lives. It’s better to have more children!”
Lermontov even spat to himself. “What a fool,” he thinks, “I don’t need something like this for nothing!” Since then, I never dreamed of taking her to the Caucasus again.
Once Pushkin wrote a letter to Rabinpanath Tagore. “Dear distant friend,” he wrote, “I don’t know you and you don’t know me. I’d really like to meet you. All the best. Sasha.”
When the letter was brought, Tagore indulged in introspection. So immersed, even if you cut it. The wife pushed and pushed, slipped the letter, but she didn’t see it.
Once F. M. Dostoevsky, may he rest in heaven, turned 150 years old. He was very happy and had a birthday party. All the writers came to him, but for some reason their heads were shaved. One Gogol has a mustache drawn on.
OK then. We drank, ate, congratulated the newborn, may he rest in heaven. We sat down to play screw. Lev Tolstoy dealt - each player has five aces. What the hell! It doesn't happen like that! “Give it up, brother Pushkin, you better!”
“I,” he says, “please, I’ll rent it!” And he passed. Everyone has six aces and two queens of spades. Gee. "Give it up, brother Gogol." Gogol passed...
Well, you know... It’s not even a good thing to say. Somehow it happened...
No, really, it’s better not to!
One day F.M. Dostoevsky, may he rest in heaven, was sitting by the window and smoking. He finished smoking and threw the cigarette butt out of the window. He had a kerosene shop under his window, and the cigarette butt landed right in the can of kerosene.
The flame, of course, is a pillar. In one night, half of St. Petersburg burned down. Well, they imprisoned him, of course. I did my time and got out. On the very first day he walks through St. Petersburg and meets Petrashevsky. I didn’t say anything to him, just shook his hand and looked him in the eyes with meaning.
One day Herzen had a dream. It’s as if he emigrated to London and is living very well. It was as if he bought an English bulldog dog. The dog is so furious - he has no strength, and whoever he sees, he attacks him.
And if he reaches it, grabs it with a death grip - that’s it, you can run and order a memorial service. And suddenly it was as if he was no longer in London, but in Moscow:
walks along Tverskoy Boulevard, holding his monster on a leash, and Leo Tolstoy meets him... And wow, here at the most interesting place the Decembrists came and woke him up.
One day Dostoevsky's nostril became clogged. I started blowing air and the membrane in my ear burst. I plugged it with a cork - it turned out to be too big, the skull cracked.
He tied it with a string - he looks, his mouth does not open. Then he woke up in bewilderment, may he rest in heaven.
Leo Tolstoy loved children very much. At dinner he told them all the fairy tales for teaching.
It used to be that everyone had already eaten consommé with pate, profiteer, oysters, blemange, ice cream - and he kept holding the first spoon of soup in front of his beard, he said. Morality will come out - and slam the spoon on the table!
Leo Tolstoy loved children very much. In the morning he will wake up, catch someone, stand and stroke his head until they call him for breakfast.
F.M. Dostoevsky, may he rest in heaven, passionately loved life. She, however, did not spoil him, so he was often sad. Those for whom life smiled (for example, Leo Tolstoy) did not appreciate it, constantly being distracted by other objects. For example, Leo Tolstoy loved children very much. They were afraid of him. They hid from him under a bench and whispered there: “Robya, be afraid of this guy. He’ll fuck you with a crutch!” Children loved Pushkin. They said: “He’s funny! So funny!” And they chased him in a barefoot flock. But Pushkin had no time for children. He loved one house on Tverskoy Boulevard, one window in this house... He could sit for hours on the wide windowsill, drink tea, look at the boulevard... One day, heading towards this house, he raised his eyes and saw himself on his window ! With sideburns and a ring on his thumb! He, of course, immediately realized who it was. And you?
Once Leo Tolstoy asked F.M. Dostoevsky, may he rest in heaven: “Is it true that Pushkin is a bad poet?” “It’s not true,” F.M. Dostoevsky wanted to answer, but he remembered that his mouth had not opened since he bandaged his cracked skull, and he remained silent. "Silent means consent!" - Lev said and left.
Then Fyodor Mikhailovich, may he rest in heaven, remembered that he had only dreamed of all this in a dream. But it was already too late.
Leo Tolstoy loved children very much. It used to be that he would bring about five in a convertible and treat all the guests to it. And wow, Herzen was always unlucky: sometimes he got the lousy one, sometimes he got the biting one. And try to wince - he will grab the crutch and - fuck you on the head!
One day Gogol dressed up as Pushkin and came to visit Vyazemsky.
He accidentally looked out the window and saw Tolstoy hitting Herzen with a crutch, and there were kids standing around, laughing. He felt sorry for Herzen and began to cry. Then Vyazemsky realized that this was not Pushkin.
Gogol read Pushkin's drama "Boris Godunov" and said: "Oh yes Pushkin! Indeed, a son of a bitch!"
Gogol only thought about the soul towards the end of his life, but from a young age he had no conscience at all. One day he lost his bride at cards. And he didn’t give it away.
Not only was Turgenev timid by nature, but Pushkin and Gogol completely silenced him. He wakes up at night and shouts: “Mom!” Especially in old age.
Pushkin was walking along Tverskoy Boulevard and met a beautiful lady. He winked at her, and she laughed so hard! “Don’t be deceived,” he says, “Nikolai Vasilyevich! Better give back the three rubles that you lost in the storm just now.”
Pushkin immediately guessed what was going on. “I won’t give it up,” he says, “you fool!”
He stuck out his tongue and ran away. What happened to Gogol then...
Leo Tolstoy loved children very much, but could not stand adults, especially Herzen. As soon as he sees him, he rushes out with a crutch and tries everything in his eyes, in his eyes. And he pretends not to notice anything. Says:
"Oh, Tolstoy, oh!"...
Once Gogol wrote a novel. Satirical. About one good man, a prisoner from the camp, his name is Nikolai, in the camp in Kolyma. Pavlovich began (allusion to the Tsar). And so, with the help of criminals, he poisons this good man and brings him to death. Gogol called the novel "A Hero of Our Time." Signed "Pushkin". And he took it to Turgenev to publish in the magazine.
Turgenev was a timid man. He read the novel and broke out in a cold sweat. I decided to edit everything quickly. And edited it.
He moved the scene of action to the Caucasus. The prisoner was replaced by an officer.
Instead of criminals, he now has pretty girls, and it is not they who offend the hero, but he who offends them. He renamed Nikolai Pavlovich Maxim Maksimych.
I crossed out “Pushkin” and wrote “Lermontov”. I quickly sent the manuscript to the editor, wiped off the cold sweat and went to bed.
Suddenly, in the middle of a sweet sleep, a nightmare thought struck him. Name!
He didn't change the name! Immediately, barely dressed, he left for Baden-Baden.
Pushkin sits in his room and thinks: “I’m a genius, okay. Gogol is also a genius.
But Tolstoy is a genius, and Dostoevsky, may he rest in heaven, is a genius!
When will this end?"
That's where it all ended.
Leo Tolstoy loved children very much. One day he was walking along Tverskoy Boulevard and saw Pushkin walking ahead. Pushkin, as you know, is short in stature.
“Of course, this is no longer a child, this is more like a teenager,” thought Leo Tolstoy. “Anyway, let me catch up and pat him on the head.” And he ran to catch up with Pushkin. Pushkin, not knowing Tolstoy’s intentions, rushed to his heels. Running past the policeman, this law enforcement officer was outraged by the indecent speed in a crowded place and ran after him in order to stop him. The Western press later wrote that in Russia writers are persecuted by the authorities.
One day Lermontov bought apples, came to Tverskoy Boulevard and began to treat the ladies present. Everyone took it and said “Merci”. When Natalya Nikolaevna Pushkina approached with her sister Alexandrina, he trembled so much from excitement that he dropped the apple at her feet (Nat. Nik., not Alex.)
One of the dogs grabbed an apple and started running. Alexandrina, of course, ran after her. They were alone - for the first time in their lives (Lerm., of course, with Nat. Nik., and not Alex. with the dog). By the way, she (Alex.) didn’t catch up with her.
One day Pushkin decided to scare Turgenev and hid on Tsvetnoy Boulevard under a bench. And Gogol also decided that day to scare Turgenev, disguised himself as Pushkin and hid under another bench. Turgenev is coming here.
How will they both jump out!
Leo Tolstoy loved children very much. One day he played with them all day and got hungry. I came to my wife. “Sonya,” he says, “little angel, make me a prison.” She objects: “Levushka, you see, I’m busy, I’m rewriting War and Peace.” “Ah,” he cried, “I knew that my literary incense was dearer to you than my self.” And the crutch trembled in his convulsive hand.
Leo Tolstoy and F.M. Dostoevsky argued who would write a better novel.
Turgenev was invited to judge. Tolstoy ran home, locked himself in his office and quickly began writing a novel - about children, of course (he loved them very much). And Dostoevsky sits in his room and thinks: “Turgenev is a timid man.” He sits now in his room and thinks: “Dostoevsky is a nervous man.” If I say that his novel is worse, he might kill me." Why should I try (that’s Dostoevsky thinking). I’ll write something worse on purpose, it’ll still be my money.”
(they bet for a hundred rubles).
And Turgenev at this time sits in his room and thinks: “Dostoevsky is a nervous man. If I say that his novel is worse, he might kill him. On the other hand, Tolstoy is a count. It’s also better not to get involved. Well, they are completely.”
And that same night he quietly left for Baden-Baden.
Turgenev wanted to be brave, like Lermontov, and went to buy himself a saber. Pushkin walked past the store and saw it through the window. He took it and shouted on purpose: “Look, Gogol (and there was no Gogol with him), - look, Turgenev is buying a saber! Let’s buy a gun with you!”
Turgenev got scared and left for Baden-Baden that same night.
One day Gogol was given a candelabra. He immediately put sideburns on him and started teasing him. “Oh, you,” he says, “the lyre is unfinished!”
One day Gogol dressed up as Pushkin and came to visit Maikov.
Maikov sat him down in a chair and treated him to empty tea. “Would you believe it,” says Alexander Sergeich, there is no lump of sugar in the house. Just now Gogol came and ate all the sugar.” Gogol didn't tell him anything.
One day Gogol dressed up as Pushkin and came to visit Derzhavin Gavrila Romanych.
The old man, confident that it was indeed Pushkin in front of him, went into the grave and blessed him.
Having happily avoided meeting Leo Tolstoy one day, Herzen walks along Tverskoy Boulevard and thinks: “Still, life can be beautiful sometimes.”
Here a huge black cat stands at his feet and immediately knocks him off his feet! As soon as he gets up and shakes off the dust, a pack of black dogs rushes in, running after this cat, and again throws him to the ground. The future publisher of "The Bell" stood up again and saw: the owner of the dogs himself, Lieutenant Lermontov, was prancing towards him on a black horse. “The end,” the author of “Past and Thoughts” thinks, “now they will scatter - and...” Nothing happened. Restrained by the usual hand, the horse passes by at a marching pace, and as soon as it has passed Herzen, it swings its tail - and slashes in the face. Glasses, naturally, fly into the bushes. “Well, that’s not so bad,” the author of “The Thieving Magpie” thinks, looks for his glasses, puts them on his nose - and what does he see in the middle of the bush? The malicious, smiling face of Leo Tolstoy! But Tolstoy was not a monster. “Come in, come in,” he says, “poor fellow.” And patted him on the head.
Leo Tolstoy loved to play the balalaika (and, of course, children).
But he couldn't. It happened, he writes the novel “War and Peace,” and he himself thinks: “Der-day-ter-day-day-day-day!..” or “bram-pram-dararam-pam-pam!..”
Once Chernyshevsky saw from his attic window how Lermontov jumped on his horse and shouted: “To the arcade!” “Well, then,” thought Chernyshevsky, “God willing, there will be a revolution, then I’ll shout like that.”
And he began to rehearse in front of the mirror, repeating in different manners: “IN PASSAGE!.. IN PASSAGE!.. IN PASSAGE!
Nicholas I wrote a poem on the empress's name day. It starts like this: “I remember a wonderful moment...” And so on. Then Pushkin came to him and read it.
And in the evening at Zinaida Volkonskaya’s salon he had great success through them, passing them off as his own, as always. What does it mean that a person had professional memory?
And so in the morning, when Alexandra Feodorov is drinking coffee, the Tsar-husband slips his piece of paper under her saucer.
She read it and said: “Oh, Coco, how sweet, where did you get it, this is fresh Pushkin!”
One day during lunch, Sofya Andreevna served a dish of lush, hot, aromatic rice cutlets. Leo Tolstoy will be so angry! “I,” he shouts, “are engaged in self-improvement! I don’t eat rice cutlets anymore!”
I had to feed this food of the gods to people.
Pushkin often visited Vyazemsky, sat for a long time on the window, saw everything and knew everything. He knew that Lermontov loved his wife. Therefore, he considered it not entirely appropriate to give him the lyre. I thought about sending Tyutchev abroad - they didn’t let me in, they said: it’s not suitable - it has artistic value. But he didn’t like Nekrasov as a person.
He sighed and left the lyre with him.
Leo Tolstoy loved children very much; everything was not enough for him. They bring a full room, there is nowhere to take a step - he keeps shouting: “More! More!”
Pushkin was not exactly lazy, but prone to dreamy contemplation. Turgenev is a terrible busybody, always obsessed with activity. Pushkin often abused this. It used to be that he was lying on the sofa and came in
Turgenev. Pushkin to him: “Ivan Sergeevich, not for service, but for friendship - won’t you run for beer?” And then he calmly falls back asleep. Knows it wasn't
chance for Turgenev to return. Either he will run somewhere to sign a petition, then to the nihilists for a meeting, or to a civil memorial service. Otherwise he will get scared of something and leave for Baden-Baden. Pushkin was not afraid to be left without beer. Thank God, there were serfs, there was someone to send.
Pushkin was walking along Tverskoy Boulevard and saw Chernyshevsky. Snuck up and walks behind. The passing writers bow to Pushkin, and Chernyshevsky thinks to him. He is happy.
Dostoevsky walked by and bowed. Pomyalovich, Gregorovsky - bow.
Gogol walked by - he laughed and said hello with his hand - also nice.
Turgenev - curtsy. Then Pushkin went to Vyazemsky to have tea. And then Tolstoy came towards me - he was still young, without a beard, wearing epaulettes. And I didn’t even look. Chernyshevsky later wrote in his diary: “All writers are good, but Tolstoy is a hamm. Because he’s a count.”
Leo Tolstoy loved children very much and wrote poems about them. I copied these poems into a separate notebook. One day after tea he hands this notebook to his wife:
“Look, Sophie, isn’t she better than Pushkin?” - and he holds a crutch behind him.
She read it and said: “No, Levushka, it’s much worse. Whose is it?” Then he hits her on the head with a crutch - fuck! Since then, I relied on her literary taste in everything.
Once F.M. Dostoevsky, may he rest in heaven, caught a cat on the street.
He needed a live cat for the novel. The poor animal squealed, squealed, wheezed and rolled its eyes, then pretended to be dead. Then he let him go. The deceiver bit the poor writer in turn on the leg and disappeared.
Thus, the best novel of Fyodor Mikhailovich, may he rest in heaven, “Poor Animals,” remained unfulfilled. About cats.
F.M. Dostoevsky, may he rest in heaven, also loved dogs very much, but he was painfully proud, and he hid it (about dogs) so that no one could say that he was imitating Lermontov.
There were already a lot of things said about him.
One day Gogol dressed up as Pushkin, put a mask on top and went to a masquerade ball. There, a lovely lady, dressed as a bayadera, fluttered up to him and slipped him a note.
Gogol reads and thinks: “If I’m like Gogol, what should I do? If I’m like Pushkin, as a decent person, I can’t take advantage of it. But what if this is just a joke of a young creature, spoiled by universal worship? And come on!" And he threw the note in the trash.
Pushkin was a poet and always wrote something. One day Zhukovsky caught him writing a letter and loudly exclaimed: “You really are a scribbler!”
From then on, Pushkin fell in love with Zhukovsky very much and began to call him in a friendly manner, simply Zhukov.
As you know, Pushkin never grew a beard. Pushkin was very tormented by this and always envied Zakharyin, who, on the contrary, had a beard that grew quite well. “It grows for him, but it doesn’t grow for me,” Pushkin often said, pointing his nails at Zakharyin, and he was always right.
One day Petrashevsky broke his watch and sent for Pushkin. Pushkin came, examined Petrashevsky’s watch and put it back on the table. "What do you say, brother Pushkin?" - asked Petrashevsky. “Stop the car,” said Pushkin.
When Pushkin broke both his legs, he began to move on wheels.
Friends loved to tease Pushkin and grabbed him by these wheels. Pushkin was angry and wrote abusive poems about his friends. He called these poems epigrams.
Pushkin spent the summer of 1829 in the village. He got up early in the morning, drank a jug of fresh milk and ran to the river to swim. After bathing in the river, Pushkin lay down on the grass and slept until lunch. After lunch, Pushkin slept in a hammock.
When meeting stinking men, Pushkin nodded his head to them and pinched his nose with his fingers. And the smelly men broke their hats and said: “This is nothing.”
Pushkin had four sons, and all of them were idiots. One of them couldn’t even sit on a chair and kept falling. Pushkin himself sat rather poorly in a chair.
It used to be pure humor: they were sitting at the table - at one end Pushkin kept falling out of his chair, at the other end his son. Just take out the saints!
Pushkin loved to throw stones. As soon as he sees stones, he begins to throw them. Sometimes it gets so crazy that he stands all red in the face, waving his arms, throwing stones, just horror!..
Isn't it funny? A classic, but he throws a stick...
One day, the wonderful children's poet Daniil Kharms composed several jokes about great Russian writers. The jokes turned out to be funny and stupid (that’s why they were funny). People retold them to each other with pleasure. Later, absurd jokes appeared about Chapaev, and then about Stirlitz; The founder of this genre was Daniil Kharms: “Pushkin had four sons and they were all idiots...”
Daniil Kharms. Scary? Or funny?..
Then the employees of the children's magazine "Pioneer" Natalya Dobrokhotova-Maiskaya and Vladimir Pyatnitsky continued to compose literary jokes - in imitation of Kharms. But we are also employees of a children's magazine, why are we worse?
...In fact, Kharms was like that.
Of course, stupid children and adults should not read our jokes. Anyone who is new to the life and work of these writers will not find it funny; he will not understand anything in these anecdotes. They're smart!.. (That's why they're funny...)
Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy loved to teach peasants wisdom. He used to come out to the peasants from the very dawn, teaching and teaching, but he would be so excited that he would not notice how the day passed. The peasants, of course, listen, but what to do when their master is very literate. And after the day has passed and the master goes to rest, they go to the field to plow. There's nothing you can do about it - work is work. They even put together this saying: they say, learning is light, but lack of learning (work, therefore) is darkness.
Gogol was extremely fond of scary stories. He’ll come to Pushkin in the evening and let’s scare him. He talks and talks, and says such things that Pushkin then dreams of different things at night. And Gogol is happy. And if he gets really frisky, he would put on an overcoat and run to Nevsky Prospekt. He will hide behind some monument, wait for a passerby, jump out and shout at the top of his voice: “Give me back my overcoat!” The passerby ran away, and Gogol chuckled and rubbed his hands. That's what it was like.
Tolstoy really disliked sweeping. His wife Sofya Andreevna starts cleaning, and Tolstoy immediately runs into the field and, well, plows the land. Looks like he's very busy. Everyone praises Tolstoy for this. Here, they say, is our count, look, what a fine fellow. What a hard worker. It's been winter outside for a long time, but he keeps plowing and plowing.
Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky, when he fell in love, immediately fainted. As soon as he falls in love, he immediately faints and lies down. This amused Nekrasov and Turgenev very much. Dostoevsky will fall in love and faint, and they will giggle. They were such fun people.
One day Pushkin went to a duel with Dantes. He walks along Nevsky, doesn’t bother anyone. Suddenly he sees Gogol hiding behind the monument.
He’s acting weird again, Pushkin thought and turned off Nevsky. I’ll go around, he thinks. Suddenly he looks - again Gogol is ahead, waiting behind a bush.
What are you going to do, Pushkin thought. And again he turned into the alley. And there again Gogol sat on a bench, feeding the siskins with bread crumbs.
“This can’t be true!” – Pushkin got angry... And he woke up. He sat down on the bed and rubbed his eyes. “Oh, so it was just a dream...” And he remembered that he had to go to a duel with Dantes today.
Well, no, he thinks. Will not go. And then suddenly the dream turns out to be prophetic.
This is how Gogol saved Pushkin from a duel.
Lermontov used to walk around, tormented, looking for someone to challenge to a duel. He approached Pushkin, but Pushkin refused. “I can’t,” he says, “brother Lermontov, I promised Dantes, but it’s good - I dreamed about Gogol.”
"ABOUT! - thinks Lermontov. - But this is an idea! I'll challenge Gogol to a duel. But if he doesn’t agree, then I’ll definitely give up everything and go to the Caucasus to write poetry. By the way, people there are more responsive.”
Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy was sitting in Yasnaya, on his estate, waiting for lunch. But they still don’t bring lunch. He sits for an hour, then another, three...
They don't carry it.
Lev Nikolaevich was offended and came to his wife’s kitchen.
“Why,” says Sofya Andreevna, “haven’t you fed me until now?”
“Oh,” she answers, “Leon, we have meat pies for lunch today.” So I, not wanting to offend your feelings, told you not to serve it.
“Well,” says Lev Nikolaevich, “I’m the master of the pies.” Not the pies for me. And then, it never hurts to be simpler. And he ordered the pies to be served.
What kind of vegetarianism is there when you want to eat?
One day Dostoevsky came to see Chukovsky.
“Here,” he says, “Korney Ivanovich, listen to what I wrote.” Just your topic.
“Of course, of course,” Chukovsky answers. (No joke! Dostoevsky himself stopped by.)
And I got ready to listen. And Dostoevsky struck a pose and recited.
“Once upon a time,” he says, “there was a cockroach in the world.” Cockroach from childhood. And then I fell into a glass full of fly-eating...
Dostoevsky finished reading and looked at Chukovsky. I looked and looked...
- Well? - asks.
“Yes, Fyodor Mikhailovich, this is in some way... a thing... yes, definitely a thing,” Chukovsky answers.
- Well, will you take it? - asks Dostoevsky.
“We need to think,” Chukovsky answers.
“Well, think about it,” said Dostoevsky and went home to drink tea.
And Chukovsky, without thinking twice, wrote “The Cockroach.” What if it’s his theme?
One day Chekhov was slowly walking along Nevsky. He lost his glasses and wandered almost at random. And Gogol, as always, scared passersby. Gogol saw Chekhov and was delighted. Let him think I'll give him a good scare. But Chekhov was without glasses and wasn’t scared at all. Because I didn’t really see anything. Gogol was offended and left for Italy. Why waste energy in vain?
Grigorovich and Nekrasov once read Dostoevsky’s new novel and then ran along Nevsky Prospect to Belinsky. They run so happy.
– A new Gogol was born! A new Gogol is born!
And Gogol was sitting in ambush on Nevsky. As usual, he scared passers-by with his overcoat. I heard this and was offended. Why do they need a new Gogol, he thinks, when the old one is not over yet. And he immediately got ready to go to Italy. When he was offended, he always went to Italy.
One day Turgenev dreamed that all the dogs suddenly stopped barking and began to moo like cows. He also dreamed of janitors who suddenly completely forgot how to speak like humans.
- That's it! - thought Turgenev, waking up. - So after this, read Chukovsky for the night... “The cats grunted, the pigs meowed”...
He yawned, turned over on his other side and fell asleep again. He also needed to look into his dreams about hunting.
Leo Tolstoy used to sit in his Yasnaya room - and everything was clear to him about everyone. And Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky sits underground. Sad. How can one not feel sad when it’s still far from lunch, they haven’t paid money and the tea is almost cold.
His wife, Anna Grigorievna, took pity on him and gave him a game console. Dostoevsky played once, twice... and got carried away. I used to write books at night, now I play video games.
Anna Grigorievna will come up, look at this matter, and sigh. And what kind of demons, Fedenka says, have taken possession of you, like some teenager, you’re already seeing double, so it won’t be long before you turn into some kind of idiot. I really regretted giving such a gift to my husband. In the end, I took this console with all its video games, and threw it out the window.
And Leo Tolstoy passed by. He caught the console and took it to Yasnaya Polyana with him. And I also stopped writing books. And Dostoevsky began again. This is what video games drive people to.
“Leo Tolstoy loved children very much...” And he told them jokes!
– How does infinity work?
– Where does the universe end?
– What is the theory of relativity?
– What were the real names of the three musketeers?
– How does a masterpiece differ from an ordinary painting?
– Why is Malvina’s hair blue?
– Where is the border between living and non-living?
The magazine "Luchik" tells stories about this - for inquisitive children and parents.
Articles about literature, mathematics, astronomy, history, biology, painting. Activities and puzzles for the whole family to do together. Classes on TRIZ (the theory of solving inventive problems), school for young writers, discussion club. Hope you enjoy!
TEACHERS OF RUSSIAN LANGUAGE AND LITERATURETeacher! To live without nerves,
Looking at children's pranks,
You may not be sad,
But you have to be humorous.
(E. Zapyatkin)
A Russian language teacher will correct spinal curvature into spinal curvature.
It's time to put all the dots and dashes under the circumstances!
An unheard of emergency at school No. 13: the Russian language teacher committed suicide.
Yesterday, near the “Wallpaper” store, a Russian language teacher was detained, who, in a drunken state, tried to change the “Wallpaper” sign to “Oba.”
When boys spell correctly, I have a spelling orgasm.
We have eliminated illiteracy, but we have not yet achieved literacy.
A sequel to the film "Troy" has been filmed. The film is called "Four".
There are two troubles in Russia: -tsya and -tsya.
Humans tend to make mistakes. Especially on dictation in Russian.
Nowadays, few people can make a complex proposal to a woman.
Prodigy: from reading syllables he immediately moved on to reading between the lines.
Yesterday, while fishing, an excellent student in Russian language and literature took a fish out of the pond, measured it 7 times, then cut it off, rolled it, ate it, then threw the woman off the cart and was gone.
The director of the film “How I Spent This Summer” is filming a sequel, “How I Learned Russian.”
The poet in Russia is greater than the poet in Japan, say anthropologists.
The Russian language is rich and expressive. But even he was no longer enough.
EG it was a good idea to get into a prestigious Maskovsky university.
One purposeful boy wrote dictation, and he ran out of paste, and then he scribbled it on the desk, and handed the desk over for inspection.
The literature teacher lost her lunch, her telephone and her youth among books and notebooks.
Assuring that it is golden, Pushkin I tried to sell it to a pawn shop in the fall.
Pushkin was born in Moscow, and lived all his life in St. Petersburg. This is how housing prices played a key role in shaping the image of St. Petersburg as a cultural capital Cities.
The most far-sighted poet was Mayakovsky. Already at the beginning of the 20th century he was Vladimir Vladimirovich.
And in general, I have a large vocabulary... this... what's it called?
Why do children laugh so often in literature lessons? Catchphrase, flying out of the mouth, tickles the palate.
- And our grandfather rewrote his will 5 times.
- There was no point in marrying a Russian teacher!
In the theater before the performance.
Guys, where is our prompter?
- His son dictation in Russian. He tells him there.
A literature teacher asks a student:
If you could meet and talk with any writer, living or dead, who would you choose?
Alive...
The Russian language teacher kicked a student out of the class, although he correctly said “he wanted to put” and not to lay down.
A rare bird will fly to the middle of the Dnieper. So people living on the other side of the river have never seen birds.
Let's remember our school years today... Probably, everyone in the class had a girl, an excellent student, - no one learned anything, and this little girl is holding out her hand... Or a boy of a different nationality: what’s most offensive is that he has a “4” in Russian and you "4".
Great Russian language! What a big difference between the words “fair head” and “blonde”!
How can we translate into other languages that “very smart” is not always a compliment, “very smart” is a mockery, and “too smart” is a threat?!
- Dad, are the words DIFFICULT, DIFFICULT and HARD synonyms?
- No, son! IT'S HARD to refuse an offer to drink. It is DIFFICULT to calculate your optimal dose. And it’s HARD - it’s already in the morning...
(Stanislav Yankovsky)
Of the two enlightenment brothers, Methodius was the more modest, since the Slavic culture they created ABC was named after Kirill in Cyrillic alphabet.
The teacher enters the classroom.
- Children, the photocopier in the teacher's room is broken, so we write everything dictation. From the red line: Account-fak-tuuuraa..
Starting to teach English language, I learned so many new Russian words!
You've never thought about it, but... The antonym for the word antonym is a synonym.
An erudite is a person who will always find a synonym if he doesn’t know how to spell a word.
Oddities of the Russian language: a bachelorette party is a women's party, and a womanizer is a loving man.
At the Russian language lesson.
- Decline the word “book” by case.
– Nominative case – what? – book, genitive – from what? - from paper…
Teacher:
– Today, children, we will conjugate verbs. I’m standing, you’re standing, he’s standing, we’re standing, you’re standing, they’re standing... Vovochka, repeat
- Everyone is standing
- Vovochka, what time is it – “I clean, you clean, he cleans”?
- Pre-holiday?
Father to son:
– I don’t understand why it’s a two. It’s written – “Cool work”!
Sasha's dad calls his neighbor:
Have you done Kolya’s Russian language assignment?
Did...
Let me write it off...
Where have you been?
- I ran for bread.
- So, did you catch up?
If there are nails on the feet, then there should be hands on the hands, and animals generally have bast shoes.
Come up with a sentence with the words: “sleigh”, “rode”, “cool”.
- A cool boy was sledding down the hill!
Get out of class!
- For what?
- Out the door!
- Why?
- On the floor!
Come up with an example with the particle NI.
- Neither krasov
The teacher asks a question to the student:
Who in Turgenev’s novel “Mumu” could not speak?
- Boat.
- The answer is wrong, Gerasim...
- Wait... What did the boat say?
Gerasim has a new dog! Diver.
What's your favorite book?
- "Peter the First".
- Why?
- I once found 100 rubles in it.
Yesterday at our homeroom class, an old lady recited such a long poem by heart. Without a single hesitation. And she is ninety years old. Miracles!
- What did you want? It could have been learned in ninety years.
Microbes slowly crawled over Lefty's body, dragging the horseshoes with difficulty.
Gerasim taught swimming even worse than he said...
Waiter! Give me the complaint book!
- Here, “Moo-moo”! I read a very plaintive book.
I'm allergic to literature. I got two grades from her all over my diary.
Unknown vandals hung a portrait of Daria Dontsova in the literature room.
Children, who wrote the fairy tale "The Steadfast Tin Soldier"?
Children in chorus:
- Andersen.
- And the name of the author?
Lonely voice:
-Maybe Pamela?
From a school essay:
“She does all the housework and her little brother.”
A Russian language teacher, having read the phrase “life experience comes with bastards” in an essay, decided not to correct the mistake...
In the unfinished Uryupinsk library, unfinished books are issued.
I mastered the speed reading technique and managed to read War and Peace in 25 minutes. There's something about Russia.
Why don't Russian language teachers jump with a parachute?
- Because they are afraid that they will come across a parachute with the letter “y”.
From a school essay:
“I value my mother very much - after all, my mother is my friend, comrade and brother.”
Medalist Ivanov was burned in the “school arson”, writing on Unified State Exam in the noun “arson” the letter “e”.
Mom, I received a certificate of passing the Unified State Exam, please read it to me!
It turns out there was only one commandment: " Not"with verbs it is written separately." Everything else was examples.
Both hearing and writing.
From a school essay:
“Children go to school to get the best out of it.”.
The topic of today’s essay: “Why I love literature lessons.”
“Kondraty has had enough” - received a “two” for an unlearned poem by Kondraty Ryleev.
A sadistic excellent student read all of Pasternak to Santa Claus.
An old woman sits by a broken trough and thinks: “Yes, not bad for a black belt!”
– During a literature lesson, the teacher finishes reading a fairy tale:
- And I was there, drinking honey and beer, it flowed down my mustache, but it didn’t get into my mouth. What do you guys think, what is the moral of this tale?
Vovochka:
– You need to shave more often.
Mom reads a scary story to her little daughter fairy tale, which does not make the slightest impression on the girl.
-Aren't you afraid of the evil ogre at all? - asks the mother.
- Why should I be afraid? My name is not Lyuda.
A girl comes home from school. Mom asks her what happened at school.
- Today we read a fairy tale about Little Red Riding Hood.
- And what does this fairy tale teach us?
- She teaches us to remember well what our grandmothers.
A crow with cheese sits on a Christmas tree. Under the tree the fox solves the crossword puzzle:
- A three-letter dairy product! What is it?
Crow:
- Cheese!!!
Ivan Tsarevich kissed the frog, and it turned into a kind young man. “Male,” Ivan guessed.
Grandma, grandma, why are your eyes so big?
To see you better...
Why do you have such big ears?
To hear you better...
Why is your nose so big?
So, we are elephants, granddaughters...
It turns out that football was invented by grandfather, who finally caught up with the runaway bun...
Grandfather and grandmother took into account their mistake and baked a cube.
The prince kissed the sleeping princess - she looked at him and went back to sleep.
Nowadays even fairy-tale heroes have become advanced. Pierrot is now EMO, the Little Mermaid opened a sushi bar, Carlson makes good money in hot weather, and Lisa published Kolobok’s last interview in the tabloids.
I stole it from Lermontov...
On the Literature lesson.
Why did Lensky die?
Because Onegin was a better shooter.
The meeting between Grinev and Shvabrin took place on page 66.
The first time I picked up the novel “War and Peace” was when I was 3 years old.
And what do you remember most?
How I dropped it on my leg.
A literature teacher asks an excellent student:
You, of course, read and memorized Onegin’s letter to Tatyana?
No.
Why?!!
If a Trudovik writes poetry, it means that the literature teacher also drinks.
Reading Chernyshevsky, many very much regret that Vera Pavlovna did not suffer from insomnia.
I woke up in a cold sweat: I saw Vera Pavlovna’s dream in a dream.
A boy from Vorkuta won the all-Russian essay competition “How I Spent the Summer.” His essay consisted of two words: “In the snow.”
From the writings of former school student Misha Genin:
Man evolved from monkeys thanks to the great English scientist Charles Darwin.
… Lomonosov was “the first Russian university,” from which students from many countries subsequently graduated.
... and then all the Lilliputians, young and old, rose up to fight Gulliver!
...Only after meeting Friday, and then the savages, Robinson realized with horror that the island was uninhabited.
… “I don’t want to study, but I want to get married!” said Mitrofanushka, knowing full well that he would not be able to handle these two things at the same time.
... If Grushnitsky had remained alive, he would never have forgiven Pechorin for his death in a duel.
... Olga Ilyinskaya was never able to tear Oblomov away from the sofa: in that era, women of her circle did little physical labor.
... It seems to me that the carriage that Chatsky demanded for himself was still insufficient compensation for Sophia.
... The most beautiful place on Princess Marya’s body was her eyes.
... Knowing that Lensky and Onegin would never get along in character, Zaretsky had no choice but to shout to them: “Now get along!”
... In Tolstoy’s time, there were a dime a dozen women like Katyusha Maslova, and, interestingly, every such pond was full of fish!
... It’s a pity that the days of not only the Oblomovs are gone, but also such amazing sofas on which you would like to lie all day!
... Struggling with the prejudices and conventions of high society, Anna Karenina defended the right of every woman to love not a major official, but a simple count.
... Lermontov's innovation is that Pechorin, while remaining the main character of the novel, nevertheless turns out to be an absolutely “superfluous person.”
... People like Prince Myshkin, who say whatever they think, in Russia, with the help of Dostoevsky, began to be called idiots.
... And before the duel, the relationship between Grushnitsky and Pechorin was not very good, and after that it completely deteriorated.
... Love captured Chatsky so much that he barely had enough time for monologues.
... And then a strong feeling filled Stepanida’s heart to the brim, and the regions there were completely uninhabited and poorly maintained.
...During Ostrovsky’s time, the life of a married woman was unbearable: she was not only not allowed to meet unfamiliar men, but even to love acquaintances.
... It’s strange that Chichikov never understood that Korobochka’s face expressed her complete lack of natural urges for intimate life in the family!
... Penelope swore an oath to remain faithful to Odysseus until he returned home.
... Onegin not only himself refused to enter into a legal marriage with Tatyana, but also deprived Lensky of this pleasure in relation to Olga.
... Karenin did not give his son to his wife, because he understood: if necessary, Anna would give birth to another, and he, although he was an assistant to the minister, was deprived of such an opportunity.
... Pechorin not only deprived Grushnitsky of his life, but, what is much worse, ruined his entire future career.
... Both Chatsky and Molchalin had intelligence: only one showed it when he spoke, the other when he was silent.
... Wanting to teach children to be independent, Judushka Golovlev sent them all around the world.
... Sometimes Chichikov thought the same way as all landowners, sometimes with his head.
... If Raskolnikov had not an ax in his bosom, but a diploma of higher education, he would have killed the old woman with the sheer force of his contempt.
... It’s scary to think what Othello would have done with Desdemona if she had lost not her scarf, but her maiden honor!
... Both the wife and daughter of the governor, when left alone with Khlestakov, felt surprisingly easy and at ease - perhaps for nothing, he was considered a man of easy virtue!
... Years passed, and Tatyana no longer had any feelings for Evgeniy except love.
... Don Juan's warm attitude towards women was of a pronounced anti-religious nature.
... Pechorin fell in love with Vera not because she was a young beautiful woman, but because her husband was an old, decrepit prince.
... In the fight against Karenin, Anna chose the only possible path for herself - the railway.
... Makar tried to hug Rita around the waist, but could not find her and had to settle for his neck.
... Having returned after a two-week absence, Tikhon realized that his wife Katerina was far from Penelope.
... Loving his nanny Arina Rodionovna all his life, Pushkin often asked her in letters: “Are you still alive, my old lady?”
... Chatsky pronounces his famous monologue, and he himself thinks: “This is so much grief from the mind!”
... Although Kabanikha did not digest Katerina, she ate her day and night.
... Oblomov rarely left the sofa, fearing that Stolz would immediately take his place.
... Onegin was a product of his class. Pechorin was a product of his time. Judushka Golovlev was a product of his era. In general in those
times in Russia there were a lot of all kinds of products.
LITERARY JOKES
It must be said that there is no need to worry about the health of the majority of litsite residents; in the event of a sudden closure of Internet resources, they will not faint with their heads on the asphalt, die from a broken heart or go crazy, because for this you need to have a mind, a heart and , at least, the head...
The mentality of modern poets and prose writers not only excludes their ability to read anything other than the title of a “literary work,” but even to pronounce competently, in a literary form and with appropriate dignity: Eh, mob tvayu yat!
Well, don’t be shy, Mr. Administrator of the Litprichal website, but honestly tell us how you managed to master 50 professions in your short and drunken life, and all of them “at a professional level,” with the exception of your only and last profession as the director of a rural boat station?
I will probably refrain from further listing all the merits of this amazing man!
For some reason, our prima donna, the Incomparable Violetta - Marinavladi, is no longer called a fool; probably, her former popularity at drunken literary gatherings is falling catastrophically.
Small and big meannesses that make the very existence of authors on literary forums disgusting, we, poets of the golden XXI centuries, must increase with enthusiasm. A real poet deserves recognition only when all the frostbitten idiots on the forum begin to talk to him as if on equal terms and affectionately call him “Slavochka.”
If I hear dirty swearing and idiotic jokes on the forum from the lips of our “pride of the site” Poems org, then I immediately remember my radiant childhood, kindergarten or, at worst, a mental hospital on the Pryazhka River near the house-museum of A. Blok.
There are boys who only crawled until they were three years old, then wore girls’ dresses and peed in their pants when they were already young pioneers. However, this did not prevent them from entering the list of the most popular and outstanding writers of our time.
How far can an intelligent person go if he is given a responsible and important assignment? So, to the nearest drinking establishment! One day I asked a poet and literary critic to buy me some newspapers on the way home. He bought newspapers, of course, but he also got drunk on vodka and beer.
A smart boy loves not his grandparents, but ice cream. A smart writer loves not literature, but literary prizes and the opportunity to inform everyone that he is not just anyone, but a People's Poet and a member of the Writers' Union. D. Kravchuk.
A talented poet is predisposed to all sorts of outrages. He is extremely aggressive in his apparent tolerance and desire for justice. This is a damned cosmopolitan, a terrorist and a destroyer of the foundations of democracy and Russian statehood. A talented poet and a Patriot of Russia are incompatible concepts.
In order to clearly and categorically express his intelligent thoughts, the Administrator of the Reading Hut is obliged to intimidate and bully all the authors of the portal in advance. If he does this constantly, calmly and with the fanatical enthusiasm appropriate to the occasion, then the status of Admirarch of All Izba is guaranteed to him until his last farewell.
All negative, I would say, phenomena on litsite forums are organized and provided by completely “normal” people, whose creative impulses are not properly controlled by the Russian Ministry of Health and the administration of literary portals, yes, for some reason...
But many have not yet realized that modesty, chastity and reluctance to trail behind every literary skirt are an asocial phenomenon that does not correspond to democratic principles and borders on sexual perversion.
Remember and write down, gentlemen poets and writers of fables: if I do ride over your puny asses, then I will ride on a tank, so that you finally understand what Russian literature is, and what your transsexual costumed sideshows with dressing up and quasi-literary masturbation.
As soon as I, with international enthusiasm and with creative, I would say, inflexibility, explain to another regular of literary forums who he really is, he immediately begins to act out the final act of the tragedy “Russia on Fire,” and I myself am a patriot.
Sometimes you just want to sing to one of the best contemporary poets and prose writers in Russia:
“With whom are you bastard twirling your love,
Who do you share a cigarette with?
You can’t foolishly buy a ticket to Vnukovo,
To fly over me at least once.” (like plywood over Paris)
I know well, Mr. Great Russian Poet (GRP) I. Ragulin, that in a fit of inspiration you are still capable of convincing an elderly literary diva that a hanging horseradish from a patriot is better than a cheerfully raised horseradish from an internationalist, since you are a rare demagogue and pervert. But don’t delude yourself too much - you will take my sparkling humor and unconditional success with women of reproductive age with you even to the grave.
GRP Ilya Iosifovich Ragulin
I don’t ask why the half-Arbat poet and musician A. Trubin drinks so much. I ask why he drinks such crap?
It’s clear why our new Saltykov-Shchedrin N.L. assures everyone that he reads everything, but a lot and drunkenly. God forbid, someone will think that he hasn’t read anything and doesn’t know how to read at all, but has only learned to write, always the same thing, but breaking his novel of the century into fragments of feelings and the bile of petty insults.
Say what you will, but if no one calls the Administrator of the reading room an asshole anymore, then it’s time to find him something else to do, for example, appoint him editor-in-chief, so...
. . . . . . .
That literary circle was small -
words are empty and thoughts are light, -
to sit like chickens on a roost
and crow like roosters,
rock the hut on chicken legs,
drain the sludge, lick the butts
and sprinkle with sponge crumbs like a cake
dunes of words, sand of nonsense,
grumble with saliva, suffer from kidney disease,
swallow Borzhom, holding my breath,
keep no secrets, by the way,
and one, but the press secretary...
and so that the plugs don’t burn out,
Chicken legs didn’t make my sides swell,
to be like a haberdashery store,
and like the suspenders of a retiree, -
Parteigenosse of our housing office -
the idol of flatterers and faint-hearted ladies,
thief on trust again
and planted “Agdam” three times a day -
get drunk, get drunk, get drunk,
take a sip of kvass, run around the hut
in law the head of administrations,
or even a primer starting with the letter “be”,
tremble like a leaf, fly up like a bath broom,
count sins, wear out coats
until Monday turns black
turning everything into unnecessary nothing,
until the rats jumped overboard -
everyone is ranked, without distinguishing their faces...
There was a chairman, which means there were splashes
champagne, and a suicide club.
_______________________________________
/"Journey" chapter 12/
If I could tell the gang of Litberth admins what I think of them as scoundrels, it would cause a sparkle in their eyes and an ineradicable desire to screw someone else over.
An unafraid writer is not inclined to complain and inform, but if he is properly frightened, then perhaps he will someday turn out to be a decent sexist.
If an elderly man writes that all the women give him everything, you should understand this exactly the opposite. If some old bitch talks about how young her husband is, it means the dildo has not yet failed for technical reasons.
Lost illusions are still better than fruitless dreams, and the website LitSadness is an indisputable confirmation of this.
