Sergey Zagraevsky
My XX century
Chapter
6. Lenin, Party, Komsomol
Chapter
7. “Scientific career”
Chapter
8. Euphoria of epochs changing
Chapter
11. The loss of the bank
Published in Russian: Çàãðàåâñêèé Ñ.Â. Ìîé ÕÕ âåê. Ì.: Àëåâ-Â, 2001. ISBN 5-94025-009-2
ANNOTATION TO
THE BOOK
A well-known artist and
theologian Sergey Zagraevsky in former times was a Komsomol worker, a
scientist, a programmer, a businessman, and a psychic ... About all that he tells openly and fascinatingly.
Sergey Zagraevsky’s autobiography unfolds
against the background of last years of Soviet power and the reign of
"bandit capitalism" in
Introduction
Attention!
The following text
was translated from the Russian original by the computer program
and has not yet been
edited.
So it can be used
only for general introduction.
There
were Christmas bonfires warmed,
And
was in a state of bridges coach,
And
all mourning the city floated
For
some unknown purpose,
On
the
Only
away from their graves.
The
galley was black arch,
In
Summer subtly sang flyugarka,
And
silver month brightly
Over
the Silver Age was.
Because
every road,
Because
all thresholds
Walked
slowly shadow,
The
wind tore the wall posters,
Smoke
danced squat jumps on the roof,
And
the cemetery was a smell of lilac...
And
always in the heat of frosty,
Pre-war,
and terrible prodigal
Lived
some future rumble.
But
then he heard the muffled,
He
almost never troubled soul
And
in snowdrifts
As
if in a mirror terrible night
And
raves and does not want
To
know a person, -
And
along the promenade of the legendary
Closer
than calendar -
This
Twentieth Century.
Anna Akhmatova
INTRODUCTION
The book “My twentieth century” - not a
historical, not philosophical, and, moreover, not theological, though to touch
we both that and the third. May be, this book could be called a memoir, but I
managed to catch only the last third of the century, so formally it is neither
a memoir or autobiography.
A story? A tale? Also there. So leave
unsuccessful attempts to define the genre of this book, only comment on the
title: “my” the twentieth century is the century of my eyes.
I was lucky. I managed to look at the twentieth
century through the eyes of not only the artist, but also a “techie”. Not only
dissident, but “Komsomol activist”. Not only a scientist, but a “new Russian”.
Not only Christian theologian, but a psychic...
And on the part of the century, which I have not
seen, I look through the eyes of those people who gave me life - grandmothers,
grandfathers, father, mother. The most different character, personality, social
layers...
In the end, legally I'm an heir, thus, their age
is my age. My twentieth century.
Century, unique in its inconsistency. Two world
wars and an unprecedented number of victims - and unprecedented triumph of
democracy. Auschwitz, Khatyn, Kolyma and universal abolition of the death
penalty. Fascism, Stalinism, nationalism and humanistic ideals. The chemical
plants, nuclear reactors, Chernobyl, and care of the protection of the ozone
layer. And so on, all of the contradictions and so on.
As for
But all this we still talk.
A couple of years ago I wrote an Autobiography
happy man” (it was published in the book “Two roads to the temple). And now I
am ready to sign under every word: I am a truly happy person. Happy, despite
the years that I was forced to do anything but what they wanted. Because in the
end even the life and role of the psychic, and in the role of “new Russian”
gave me invaluable experience and... the material for this book. Unless
otherwise could I tell to readers, for example, how to protect themselves from
“astral attacks”? Or how to behave when gangster “attacks”?..
A few words about the book. It is written at the
end of the century in 2000, uncensored state, without censorship of the Church,
in the era of democratic and relatively free
Another point: in order to reduce the cost of
circulation had to abandon illustrations for each Chapter and leave only the inset.
However, it does not matter - illustrations to each Chapter may serve as a
poem. The most different most different poets, and often have no direct sense
of connection with the text. Yes and no need to seek this relationship. The
task of these poetic illustrations - create a certain mood, and nothing more.
Orient the reader about yourself: I was born on
August 20, 1964. Say: the day the world has seen... Not I knew then what was
happening in this day, and for several years I am not very interested. Two
months after my birth dismissed Khrushchev, but this, of course, I also did not
know.
So let's begin with those who knew about it and I
told afterwards. In the times described Akhmatova in our first poetic
illustrations in 1913 they were already born.
© Sergey Zagraevsky
Chapter
6. Lenin, Party, Komsomol
Chapter
7. “Scientific career”
Chapter
8. Euphoria of epochs changing
Chapter
11. The loss of the bank