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The memoirs of a Russian schoolboy (СИ)
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Текст книги "The memoirs of a Russian schoolboy (СИ)"


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The memoirs of a Russian schoolboy.

Preface.

I started writing this book in may 2017.

I started writing it in English, not in my native Russian. I did so because from the very beginning I was sure, that in Russia this will not be printed.

I confess honestly: worked I over this their essay not painful for something working hard. In those days I had many other things to do, including much more important ones, which I was mainly engaged.

Writing this book took in my life at that time is not the first place. To work on it I turned only in fits and starts. However, me and for this oftentimes the accounted for distract the themselves from much more important on the very moment affairs.

So all this fragmentary, non-systematic work on the book continued until November 2018, when a criminal case was opened against me on charges of terrorism.

My computer, which contained a number of important files, including the essay you were offered, – was seized during the first search of our house. In this regard, the following text has remained unfinished. It is in this form that it is now published.

During the next year, as you know, I did not see a computer or my own composition.

However, at the end of November 2019, after more than twelve months since the loss, – I managed to get my hands on the following composition. As it turned out, one of my very kind and very old friends, Kirill Filatov, saved it on his computer.

Thank you so much for that!

This text is, of course, a draft. And the draft is unfinished. He suffers from a huge number of all sorts of shortcomings. Many things I have stated here are too tendentious. Many ruthlessly misrepresented. About some – at all kept silent.

It happened because at the time when I first started writing this book, – I was a cowardly bastard and also a person stupid enough.

I simply stupidly feared, that if I write in book entire truth precisely so as she there is, and book'll print (let even and in of England), – me'll be stabbed. Either agents of the Russian special services, or assassins, sent by those influential people who do not like the book. And there are a lot of such influential people... Therefore, in fact, I tried to soften many of the facts, to make them not so highly social.

Unfortunately, this is not paranoia.

This can really happen with a writer who expounds thuth, what not very pleasant for Russian elites.

Later, of course, when I was already under house arrest awaiting trial, a lot of things changed in me. I was expecting anything but good. I was ready for anything and mentally already said goodbye to life. That is why I decided then to write another version of my own memoirs – and there to state the whole truth as it is. I was no longer afraid. I had nothing to lose.

This is the most truthful book I have written. It's called «Now it can be told».

During the time I was in prison, then under house arrest, and then in conditions of limited freedom, I wrote a book of my own memories. I had a lot of free time, and therefore the book turned out pretty solid size.

This book tells essentially the same story that is told here. There, however, it is said about all this and more vividly, and in more detail, and much better language.

Nevertheless, in writing this last work I was still limited in time, and therefore many of the things that I have stated in the «The memoirs of a Russian schoolboy», – I did not have time to set out in «Now it can be told».

This is another reason why I think it would be wise to publish this draft at least as an appendix to «Now it can be told».

This last I originally wrote in Russian. And I will print it in Russia, although it has a much more dangerous content for me than the work you are reading now. Now, after all that has happened to me over the past year, – I am simply obliged to tell the Russian society about all this.

Now publishing a book abroad would look like cowardice. No, such work should first be published in Russia and in Russian. I'll find the publisher somehow. The book must will be released. And even if I get killed after it comes out, – so, be it.

Then, if the opportunity presents itself, this work of mine will also be published in England. Let the British reader not worry about that.

In the meantime, back to «The memoirs of a Russian schoolboy».

In addition to cowardice I was still suffering from naivete. Understood, of course, that in Russia such a book even in really censored and softened version hardly issue. Nevertheless, he continued to hope that a miracle would happen and the book would be printed not only in London but also in Moscow.

Therefore, in fact, I have softened many points. I thought if I softened it, it would be printed.

But that's not all.

I was then stuck with group censorship. My old friends and classmates, of course, knew what kind of book I was writing. So me regularly approached different familiar and not very me people and were asked, to I wrote as can be less about those affairs, in which they themselves were implicated, to secrets no one's I not revealed, names and surnames not called Yes and at all wrote as can be more restrained and cautiously.

And I obediently followed the instructions of my censor friends.

In addition, I had not yet completely overcome my petty-bourgeois hypocrisy in those days. That is why I have not written in this book about how I gorged myself almost to unconsciousness, how I masturbated, how I took drugs, how I killed a man and many other things.

However, in addition to various frauds, the text has other problems. So, this book in my opinion is obviously overloaded with sexual and parasexual scenes. The notes I give in square brackets, addressed to the British reader, – very often look ridiculous. And the language of this work is written very clumsy...

A large part of these errors I have corrected in the «Now it can be told».

The latter, however, will be available to the British not soon. To tell about the events, that happened to me during my training, first in the 737, and then in the 1497 school (later united in a single educational center «Proton») and ended in the end a criminal case against me, – I think it is necessary now.

Of course, many of the facts, what set forth in «Now it can be told», – you will not find here. Many others you will meet in a distorted form.

I think, however, that it is better to tell all this not too well than not to tell it at all.

You'll like this book, I hope.

Foreword.

Dear and beloved by me, you, perhaps, hold in your hands a landmark work that will go down in the history of Russian and world literature as the best panorama of the description of the social life of our youth during the reign of Vladimir Putin.

The author of this work, himself a schoolboy, who in 2017 graduated from the nine-year compulsory education of all the wisdoms, will be able to tell the truth about the present generation from his own point of view to some extent, write a letter to the descendants from the abyss of the historical abyss that divides us. The venerable writer of these lines, during his training, managed to get a finished view of the existence of his contemporaries, whom he considered so important and worthy that he decided to write a book about them. In part, being a faithful patriot of our Great Fatherland, confident of his very special condition and position, and also an ardent supporter of our remarkable government, he wanted to dispel some myths concerning our remarkable youth.

Recently, lying rumors of the wildest nature concerning our youth have spread to all corners of the country; the opposition figures who are completely mired in pharisaism, who have already forgotten how the sunshine looks like, having spent many years almost unheeded in their kitchens in disputes about the insubstantial, they gladly accept rumors, not wanting to go to the nearest school to check the really true one.

At the same time, when reading such a work of high art, one should once again ponder the civil responsibility of the writer before the people of his Motherland, awaiting a response to thecurrent challenges of history. The last sentence here is not at all empty «duty» words, usually spoken by every author in relation to his work, but are the real truth, like everything described here. You, the reader who lives, perhaps, in a bright communist future, but even if you and my contemporary, you still can not imagine how much pressure on the author was from the reactionaries who were mentioned here.

Asking why their reaction was so harsh, to my esteemed reader, that he dared to take such a book in hand, one should remember one very important detail of the narrative in it: all those events that I described here really did take place, not knowing the literary decoration on my part. All names, surnames, names and that kind of accuracy are genuine, not being in any case replaced by others, for which the author, to a certain extent, is afraid for his life and physical health, inferring these lines. This kind of truthfulness of the exposition also aroused the particular anger of the reactionaries, who were ready to go to any crime in order to prevent the publication of the book exposing them.

For the first time the novel was conceived by me in the fall of 2014, but then only some of its sketches appeared that I read publicly in our school, which caused some wobbling in the minds and a certain excitement among the teaching staff. Right after the public reading of this work, I was summoned to the head of our school, – Oksana Sergeevna, – to answer not so much for my words, but for actions in which I was accused immediately after entering her luxurious office with a table from walnut and a leather armchair over which hung the carved coat of arms of the Republic and a huge portrait of Emperor Nicholas II in a carved frame painted in oil paint – as he learned later, he cost us five thousand US dollars; what to say before the price of the coat of arms, then no one hid it – one thousand dollars. In general, I can long and vividly paint the immense wealth of our then director, whom many rich men could envy, but nevertheless I will return to the question of our conversation, which was to be very interesting to me then.  The headmistress spread herself out in a huge armchair, took out the handle of the malachite casket, turned it in her hands, looked at the emperor, then at me, then at the closet, lined with silverware, and then said: «So you were trying to rape Tonya Bozhenko?».Frankly, at that moment I nearly fell off the chair with surprise: everyone knew that I had never used force methods to people, and besides, I was still heading an anti-sexual movement in our school, which wanted to ban and eradicate any forms of intimacy, but in fact I did not cross anywhere with Antonina, except for school. Of course, at the same moment I rolled a terrible scandal, announcing to the director that there was nothing like this and there could not have been, to which the principal answered me in a very interesting way: «It does not matter to me whether it was or not, it's not important to us. It is important for us to apply pedagogical methods of influence.». I replied that the effect should logically follow the accomplishment, which was followed by a very rude response accompanied by a knock on the table: «Shut up! You build a smart man – a botanist [So in Russia they call the nerds.], a whore, –some problems because of you. Who asked you to write about our school?». To which I replied: «Let it be known to you that I acted purely within the bounds of the law, using the freedom of speech bestowed on me by the Constitution of our glorious Fatherland, without saying anything extremist, but only by revealing the truth to the surface! And explain to me how my accusation is connected with those letters?». The director's face twisted in a terrible grimace, which reminded me of some horror films from bourgeois countries: «Shut your mouth fuck. Clever I got here! So it is connected, moron! I'll take you to prison, I understand, you freak freak!». I asked to substantiate at least how her decisions about determining me in prison, to which I received the answer: «What fucking proof? I'll send you to prison, you understand, you moron, to prison! I will find the witnesses, if anything, but I have acquaintances in the police. You there little prisoners in the ass will fuck, understand?!».

At that moment the headmistress began to laugh madly and hysterically, disheveling her hair, constantly repeating the last sentence in her short monologue. I was indignant, saying: «The only one present who is truly worthy of prison is yourself, for the acts you committed do not fit into the law, so I accuse you of abuse of office and call for trial over you!». I, of course, was expelled, wishing for an early death, showered with curses and the most brutal abusive language, and also stated that it would be nice if I was eaten alive by dogs.

The entire 2014-2015 academic year [In Russia the academic year runs from 1 September to 25 May.] was filled with such kind of conversations, as well as scandals of a different kind, always started in an empty place by the administration of our institution, and several times almost brought me to the place where Oksana wished to send me.  Gradually, some other oddities were added to these scandals: on walks, I began to notice more and more that some young and strong guys accompany me.

Until a certain point, I did not attach any importance to this, until one day I went to a rather distant path of Filevsky Park, where, as before, they «led» me, staying at a distance of several tens of meters. At one point, however, I heard that one whispered words to another, after which one of them went off the road into the bush, and the other added one step, cutting the distance between us more rapidly. I heard the lightning on one of his pockets unzip, and then, turning my head slightly in the appropriate direction, I saw that in his hand a fairly large piece of brick was clamped, although I tried not to serve the kind. After a while, when we came to the fork, I jerked all the way to a more brisk path, although the stone still flew in my direction, it did me no harm by letting go and leaving the enemy only with a quiet screaming noise associated with their hunting failure.

For several more months I had to avoid dark and empty places, for the escort after this event did not go away, but only intensified; a couple of times I have seen these individuals under the windows of their own home. I had the honor to see through all the details through binoculars, as they tried to get into my house through the fire escape, crouching with her a couple of times with rather amusing screams, and crushing their bodies with a metal roof over the porch of the office of one firm; it was amusing to see how these people tried to have Molotov cocktail before the fourth floor, it was interesting to watch also other similar pranks. Three times I was shot at the crossbow, and all three times it happened on the Filevskaya floodplain or in the park. When I climbed in winter on the famous ravines of Kuntsevsky Park, I suddenly heard a strange whistle, but at first I did not attach any importance to it, later the whistle was repeated several times, and then I saw an arrow stuck in the snow. After examining the neighborhood, I saw two people standing on the slope of the ravine in a position so convenient for shooting that it could hardly be a coincidence: this instant was right, for I immediately received a few more «arrows of happiness» from my observers.

Another time I went to the Filyovskaya embankment under -30, enjoying its deserted nature, and then decided to get on the ice of the Moskva-river [Here we must remember that the Russian Moscow never call Moscow and say only «Moskva»; the Moskva-river is a broad river, which flows through the city.], which I should not have done, although not because of its subtlety. Since just behind the embankment there are bushes and trees, then the shooting position was no less convenient, for I could not even see the shooters who had taken cover in the snow-covered bushes, being completely vulnerable to them, since in the open space of ice to discover my red jacket and to coat  in me would not be a good arrow of labor. My enemies, my goodness, were bad arrowheads who could not get into me while I managed to hide behind a summer pool of plastic that was thrown by the shore, which saved me, perhaps, life. The third time they shot me at the Filevskaya floodplain with one of the hills, while I was moving along the path; there was this where a very narrow path, wagging along the river, just rises first, and then abruptly descends. From the shooters to me was no more than thirty meters, and I could not snatch it to the sides, for on one side of me there was a precipice to the river, and on the other, an almost steep hill. I, however, noticed the enemy a second before the shooting began, and so I managed to retreat back into the blind zone for them, although a dozen arrows had managed to release me. In March-April 2015, any surveillance and that sort of action went down gradually to zero, although the harassment inside the institution «legal» methods continued. As for the nature of all those «attempts»that the young guys have committed, their nature and essence will be explained in the book below, giving you a motivation for thoughtful reading.  In the summer of 2015, I finished one of the versions of the book, postponing its publication at the best of times, and later, in the autumn of the same year, I left the institution described in the book.

Only now, after a time when I learned more about the work of some in-school and out-of-school organizations, when I overestimated many events, received more reliable information about them, got rid of unnecessary emotions, and therefore decided to supplement the book and publish it on the Internet. Far from everything described here is already in the past: even at the time when I had long since left the very 737 school, its rulers reminded me periodically of their existence and incredible malice towards me; they prevented the publication of the novel in our time. Although the reform of education, and the unification of schools in particular, has greatly undermined their influence, they still still retain enough force to exert pressure on the working masses of their unfortunate students. [Although in the book I use the word «student» in relation to the schoolboys, it should be noted that this is only the observance of stylistics of the English language, since the word in Russia is used almost exclusively in relation to Universities students; schoolchildren in Russia is called only schoolchildren. It should also be said that the word «schoolboy» in the Russian language is clearly derogatory and offensive; often it replace the word «moron».] Although all their filthy intrigues and the scandals they have organized could not stop the writing of this and some other progressive works, and their exit was yet another victory of progress over the reaction. This book has become another nail in the lid of thecoffin of pedagogical counter-revolution, another swallow, marking the imminent coming of the only just society-communism.  Now I want to say a few words about the technical part of this work. Most of the events of this work, outlined here in chronological order, occurred between autumn 2013 and autumn 2015, but some took place in later years. If you care about some of the details of the content, I must say that all the dialogues given in this work were written from memory on the day they were uttered in one of the notebooks or were taken to a portable camera, and from there they were copied here. Regarding the question of abusive language, I should note that I was always a radical opponent of them, never using them in my speech or writing, but here I reproduce the speeches of all real persons precisely in the expressions in which they actually uttered them – here the truth becomes much more valuable than the formal saving of morality, immoral will hide the truth. Despite the fact that this book is devoted to the life of schoolchildren, there will be almost no description of school activities, although they occupied most of our time, since this is of no interest for future generations, and for ours too; it would be extremely erroneous to believe that we at one time only dealt with the work described in the book, not indulging in study at all, for this is completely untrue. Among other things, and also in order to avoid the publication of these by separate work, I contributed many of my reports and lectures bearing an indelible stamp of the worldview of their author, here in the form of separate chapters, of which there will be a lot.

Chapter first.

Prehistory.

At the close of 2013 from the birth of Christ, I left my previous school with a huge scale of scandal involving the accusation of my class teacher in the excessive consumption of alcohol in the workplace on my part, as well as the subsequent sanctions on this side. That very class teacher, Anna Valeryevna, constantly poured into her huge coffee mug the contents of certain figured bottles of oak color, as well as a certain substance from the flask, appearing after that in class in a very cheerful state. It must be said that this was by no means a kind of «proletarian» school, but one of those places where the offsprings of the bourgeois elite are usually placed is institution number 711 in Moscow. Here, as a convinced communist, I am obliged to perform a mandatory ritual of apology to all my readers, and proletarian readers in particular, saying that it was a mistake of my kinship to use the very same school for my education. Concerning the fact that I had to choose a different place from the beginning, I had an initial understanding, and therefore I sincerely report that I am ashamed before the readers to recognize that my primary education was bourgeois by nature, which gave me a lot of problems in the future related to the fight against; this is in the form of repulsive positivism in oneself. Since after the accusation no kind of continuation of my stay there could have already taken place, then we left the institution, finding a better one, the search for which was not particularly long.

In 710 school [In this school I studied well-known «patriotic» journalist Vladimir Solovyov.] I was immediately accused of a radical mental retardation of a physiological nature, and also gave a lecture on what «cattle» is physiologically different from «personalities», and also why I do not belong to the latter without any opportunity to correct the situation, advising  read Nietzsche and Hitler. I must say that I have already read both at almost the same time, although I have just reached the end of the fifth grade of the public school, which, however, should not be self-praising: in most subjects, I barely scored the lowest acceptable score, and for some  he did not have. At school, 56 we were met from the beginning in a much more hospitable way, having spent in a luxurious office, which may become the pride of some ministers or even the rulers of small states, which, nevertheless, immediately alerted us. Alertness was not at all empty, which turned out as soon as we were seated at a luxurious table of some very valuable sort of tree and said that no matter how stupid or clever I am, they have a single acceptance criterion: a contribution of 500 000 rubles immediately, as well as a tax in 50 000 monthly. [In those days 500 000 rubles was the equivalent of US dollars 20 000; one-bedroom apartment in Moscow worth 5 000 000 rubles, the car cost about one million rubles, average monthly salary in Moscow at that time was 35 000.]

Needless to say, we left this institution in silence in silence, only by the whim of our morals without contacting the police of our Republic [School 56 was a State, and therefore was obliged to take to his children for free, but the money was taken there with the studentscontrary to the law.], although I insisted on turning into this; in the end, we chose the school 737 in our area of ​​relative proximity, where we were registered for a long time, providing me with this delightful adventure described in this work.

Chapter two.

My phenomenon in the educational institution.

At school, I appeared at the appointed time on first September, when I had a chance to get to know my new friends and new enemies with whom I had experienced a lot. The first of the people I will be on my list is Denis Kutuzov[The family is very symbolic: the name of this was Mikhail Kutuzov, the greatest Russian commander of the Napoleonic wars, which, moreover, collected in 1812 by the legendary military Council in Fili village, the site of which is now erected in our district.], a man vulgar in every respect, for he was both a domestic «vulgar», remaining an avenger of Marxism and a supporter of the «new left», although these two of his incarnations were interconnected: domestic vulgarity is very impressed with the idea of ​​a «sexual revolution» of these same opportunists.

So vulgar, however, Denis became later, and at that moment he appeared in front of me as a very tanned black-haired boy, trimmed with a hedgehog, tall, with a tummy, a huge seat and nose, retaining these external qualities to the present day.

Secondly, I will mention MishaStefanko, a man much more humble than I am, and Denis, who at all times kept his neutrality position, beating us all in a game called Survive in School. The third one I will mention is a man of incredibly stupid, spiteful and ugly – Gleb Graham, a rower for hobbies, an American by nationality, and also a boor about life, with whom I had the conflict on the first day, described below. For the time being, we stood on our first joint line and started the first conversation in our life, according to which it was already clear that further relations would follow the absolutely definite trajectory of the ballistic missile flight.

The conversation was not initiated by me, although I wanted to start it, but it started at the will of Misha Stefanko, as soon as Denis approached our company.

– Oh, Dennis, hello! How not slept? – said Misha.

– I did not oversleep – said Denis, rubbing his eyes.

Here I will make a digression, saying that we were all dressed in school uniforms, which were covered with uncovered jackets, – in part this trifle will help you understand the further essence of the conversation.

– Well, you've eaten your belly, Den! – said Misha, touching, lightly knocking Denis on the soft abdomen projecting forward. – You’ve been sitting at the computer all summer, lazy. I told you to move.

– Yes, you said ... – Denis mumbled, shifting from foot to foot. – You yourself, by the way, have eaten your stomach.

Then they found out for a while which of them was the biggest lazy and glutton, until I was not involved, until a certain moment, but this moment came very soon.

– Marat, tell him already! – Misha shouted to me, almost no longer fighting with Denis.

Needless to say, I, being an unrestrained man, besides a retrograde, a reactionary, a moralist burdened by the complex of God, could not refuse a full-fledged intervention, to which I was also called, which Misha himself regretted in a couple of minutes. Of course, I read Denis quite unpleasant and very pretentious speech on the topic of a healthy lifestyle, constantly accusing him of gluttony and laziness, using expressions like these: «Well, it blew you away, Deniska [This is a special «diminutive» form of the name is in Russian.], you are turning into a shapeless mass.» etc. Denis was somewhat embarrassed, somewhat amused, as well as others, but still everyone looked at it quite calmly; Denis calmed down and agreed to draw in his stomach, although it did not last long.

Further ceremonies related to the solemn ruler, I will not describe, confining myself to the best moment in the director's speech: «We had great heroes! They died for their country in terrible tortures, but they still did not give up! Chechens were killed, tortured, raped, and they did not surrender! I want to see all of you like such heroes. Let all of you experience this!». Then there were some lessons from which I remembered so far only what I sang on the Music lesson of «God, save the Tsar», what caused an interesting response from the teacher of this subject, with whom I have norelationship in any way good: «One must think, before,  than singing songs of extremist content!  Is it possible to sing such songs in school at all?!». When I pointed out that the song is not recognized by any body as extremist, that it is well-known and completely revered by the rulers, I was told by the teacher: «Shut your mouth, you moron, and then I'll call the police!». I must say that further this same teacher of music allowed me to make much more interesting things in her lesson, unable to withstand only Horst Wessel, but before that, even the RNU [Russian National Unity is a large nationalist organization, established in 1990 year.]anthem, suffering, reluctantly.

After these lessons, we had a class hour[So Russia called a meeting of the whole class to discuss common issues.], where we were introduced to our class teacher – Alia Sirinovna, whom I kept extremely good memories, for she warmed me like a ray of hope in this darkness (here I deliberately exaggerate – in fact, I was there not bad at all). Acquaintance did not cause any special experiences, because they began to splice after the end of the class hour, which was to continue after the change.During my legal break I went where I thought I would go – to the toilet where I met Denis and Misha sitting on the windowsill and talking to one of the themes of my computer games, which remain a zone of utter ignorance to this day. Having performed all the ceremonies that should have been supposed to happen, and having left already from the cabin, I heard about their desire to talk with me, moreover here, for in the corridor it is too noisy. Considering this reasonable, I agreed to this rather interesting conversation, as it turns out later, and then I will understand how the conversations are conducted here, about what and in what terms.


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