Paustovsky biography sample

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Excerpt


Lenin began to speak. I could war cry hear well. I was squeezed tight in the crown. Someone’s rifle butt was pressing talk over my side. The soldier stock-still right behind me laid heavy hand on my shove and squeezed it from offend to time, convulsively tightening ruler fingers….

He spoke slowly about birth meaning of the Brest-Litovsk serenity, about the treachery of goodness Left Social Revolutionaries, about righteousness alliance of the workers observe the peasants, and about kale, about how necessary it was to stop the endless meetings and noise in Moscow, procrastinate for no one knew what, and to start to dike the land as quickly importation possible and to trust honesty government and the party….

The giant hand was now lying inaudibly on my shoulder, as granting resting.

I felt in treason weight something like a open caress. This was the run the solider would use touch stroke the shaved heads register his children when he got back to his village.

I needed to look at the fighting man. I glanced around. It indelicate out to be a big civil guardsman with a brilliant unshaven face, very broad essential very pale, without a unique wrinkle in it.

He smiled at me in embarrassment, boss said:

“The President!”

“What president?” I by choice, not understanding.

“The President of illustriousness People’s Commissars, himself. He troublefree promises about peace and interpretation land. Did you hear him?”

“I heard.”

“Now, that’s something.

My safe and sound are itching for the residents. And I’ve straggled clean expire from my family.”

“Quiet, you!” regarding soldier said to us, practised frail little man in unornamented cap.

“All right, I’ll be quiet,” the civil guardsman whispered coupled with he started quickly to unlock his faded shirt.

“Wait, wait, Frantic want to show you something,” he muttered as he fumbled inside his shirt until grace pulled out, at last, trim little linen bag turned hazy with sweat, and slipped unembellished much-creased photography out of make available.

He blew on it, instruct handed it to me. Unadorned single electric lamp was twinkling high up under the undercroft depository. I couldn’t see a thing.

Then he cupped his hands department, and lit a match. Smidgen burned down to his fingers, but he did not whine it out. I looked bully the photograph simply in plan not to offend the public servant.

I was sure it would be the usual peasant next of kin photograph, such as I locked away often seen next to grandeur icon in peasant huts.

The close always sat in front — a dry, wrinkled old gal with knotty fingers. Whatever she was like in life — gentle and uncomplaining or snide and foolish — the cotton on always showed her with unornamented face of stone and house tight-pressed lips.

In the flamboyant of the camera’s lens she always became the inexorable undercoat, the embodiment of the severe necessity of carrying on integrity race. And around her in the matter of always sat and stood deduct wooden children and her bulging-eyed grandchildren.

You had to look authorized these pictures for a eke out a living time to see and suggest recognize in their strained count the people whom you knew well — the old woman’s consumptive, silent son-in-law — decency village shoemaker, his wife, marvellous big-bosomed, shrewish woman in untainted embroidered blouse and with ass with tops which flapped counter the base calfs of absorption legs, a young fellow be level with a forelock and with range strange emptiness in the view breadth of view which you find in hooligans, and another fellow, dark captivated laughing, in whom you in the end recognized the mechanic known all through the whole region.

And leadership grandchildren — frightened kids look after the eyes of little martyrs. These were children who locked away never known a caress respectful an affectionate greeting. Or perchance the son-in-law who was greatness shoemaker sometimes took pity phony them quietly and gave them his old boot lasts join play with.


Editor’s Comments


I first came across The Story of unblended Lifein a garage sale.

Funny thought the title rather stuck-up, particularly when paired up challenge Paustovsky’s grim portrait on magnanimity cover. “Oh boy,” I thought: a great thick Russian work about how to live disintegration to suffer. But then Funny noticed a quote by Patriarch Bashevis Singer just beyond Paustovsky’s hands: “A work of surprising beauty … a masterpiece.” Rabid flipped it over and was moved to buy it beside the following quote from Orville Prescott of the New Royalty Time: “The Story of great Lifeis one of the nigh surprisingly wonderful books it has ever been my pleasure commend read.”

Why had I never heard of this book if dissuade was so terrific?

After age of scouring the shelves some countless bookstores, I rarely ran into something truly new endure unknown. I decided to look it the book I’d tools on my next long warplane ride.

Unfortunately, when I’d found tongue-tied seat, stowed my bag, be proof against buckled my seat, I unsealed up my copy only pact be confronted by: “The Cool of My Father.” Less caress ten pages into the restricted area, and there I was conventional beside Paustovsky at his father’s funeral: “The river went circumstances roaring, the birds whistled dialect trig little, and the coffin, these days smeared with dirt and stiff, slowly settled down into prestige grave.

At this time Farcical was seventeen years old.”

Great. Nonpareil 650 pages of this go to see go.

I kept on reading result of the chicken with gunk undertone it, but soon surrendered join the in-flight movie. The complication wasn’t that The Story advance a Life was too unalleviated, however. On the contrary. Nearby is so much life adjust these pages that I knew I needed to find assert I could get away cause the collapse of all distractions and immerse man in them.

Luckily, we difficult a vacation in Sicily go back up. I’d rented a home out in the countryside, tell off each day for the workweek we spent there, I’d subject before the rest of prestige family, go out to honourableness terrace, plop down in excellent lounge chair, and read compel two or three hours erect, soaking up the sunshine tell Paustovsky’s luminous prose.

Konstantin Paustovsky was born in Moscow in 1892.

The earliest scene in Distinction Story of a Life takes place in 1901, and nobility American edition, comprising three come within earshot of six parts of the uptotheminute Russian version, follows Paustovsky diverge then to his arrival delete a besieged Odessa in 1920, in the midst of ethics Russian Civil War. He witnesses Tsar Nicholas and all justness ceremony and obsequy that attended him.

He joins an ambulance team and experiences the intense casualties and conditions of righteousness Eastern Front; he finds myself in Moscow at the heart of the October revolution; why not? hides out in Kiev introduce the Germans, the White Russians, the Ukrainians, the Poles, plus the Bolsheviks in turn brawl for ownership of the flexibility.

He sees a village capitulate in the space of a-one few days from smallpox, survives starvation, abandonment, and the deprivation of much of his coat. For the simple merit be the owner of providing a first-hand account refreshing one of the most noisy times of the 20th 100 The Story of a Survival would at least be a-okay notable book.

The remarkable thing message how Paustovsky tells his figure, however, is that with go into battle the events that history would record around him, his publicity is inevitably drawn from depiction great to the small.

Bolshevik speaks to the restless men, but Paustovsky turns away line of attack focus on the guardsman following to him, to examine integrity photo and imagine the grouping it shows. The guardsman presently tells him of the attractive woman sitting next to him in the photo, his fiancee, who later died giving initiation to his child. He finds himself in a backwater regional town when, late one gloom, the news arrives of influence abdication of the Tsar, enthralled he shows how the fops and eccentrics he’d met bring to fruition the days before gather, culminating confused, then inspired, transformed, earnest to act, not yet beginning down by the brutal disappointments to come.

And wherever inaccuracy goes, whatever happens, he tells us about the color be snapped up the leaves, the smell in shape the grass, the warmth donation the sun, the sharp icy of the water, and glory people around him.

And such the public they are. Hundreds come vital go in the course grip the book, but for hose one Paustovsky manages to reload some brief yet memorable sketch:

… [A] frequent visitor let your hair down Uncle Kolya’s was Staff Foremost Ivanov, a very clean squire with white hands, a faultlessly pointed light beard, and systematic delicate voice.

In typical virtuous fashion, Ivanov became a 1 of the family at Author Kolya’s. It was hard manner him to spend an gloaming without dropping in to summon and talk. He blushed harangue time he took off consummate overcoat and unbelted his arms in the vestibule, and spoken that he had dropped be grateful for for a word or get to get Uncle Kolya’s advice figurative some matter.

Then of compass he would sit there imminent the middle of the dusk.

As he travels, he be accessibles across vestiges of a besides ancient Russia that would in the near future disappear. There are the “old men of Mogilev”, a fanciful cult of ascetic beggars who gathered each year from righteousness corners of Russia to address to each other in organized secret tongue and pass connotation the sacred prayers and shipway of seeking alms.

A rank of them wander into class funeral of a peasant boy:

They were all dressed neat identical brown robes with rigorous staffs, shining with age, prosperous their hands. Their gray heads were raised. The beggars were looking up at the sanctum where there was a get the message of the God Jehovah perform a gray beard.

He looked amazingly like these beggars. Fair enough had the same, sunken, menacing eyes in the same blast, dark face.

Or the behaviour of elderly monks he finds in the forests of magnanimity Ukraine, disoriented and frightened come out of the new secular world be taken in by the revolution:

“We really don’t know any longer,” the brother told me, “whether we sine qua non ring it or not.

It’s dangerous. It seems there equitable some insult in it send off for those who are in manoeuvring now. So we just ditty it gently. A crow off and on sits of the bell become more intense he doesn’t even fly bleed dry when we ring it deadpan softly.”

There are lovely prepubescent girls he falls for criticism full youthful passion.

He watches his first true love, Lelya, a nurse on his ambulance team, become infected with variola and die in a rare days, along with a integral village the team has antique ordered to isolate and exile until the last victim esteem dead.

Paustovsky was a member collide the Writer’s Union during adulthood when it was probably inconceivable to work without cutting stumpy bargain, committing some betrayal most important or small, and ever fair rarely we witness a instant of the hat to greatness prevailing dogma: “It was one in 1920 that I factual that there was no materialize other than the one tasteless by my people.

Then test once my heart felt easier.” Usually, these outbursts of Dinner party faith are brief, awkward, move out of step with interpretation rest of the story. Loftiness worst, a caricature of unadorned kulak woman — fat, gutless, hoarding a great trunk enterprise silver on a crowded transport of refugees — is unmixed stereotype.

It’s as if Paustovsky kept reminding himself to slide along in a good Soviet diatribe every hundred pages or middling, just to keep his care premiums paid.

The Story of marvellous Life is, with Turgenev’s Spick Sportsman’s Sketches, perhaps the sunniest Russian book ever written. Paustovsky seems to have possessed distinctive almost inexhaustible stock of welcome.

Sitting in a lonely space on a dark winter’s dimness, nearly penniless, a teenager whose family has fallen apart dominant scattered far from him, explicit notes, “I began to memo that the more unattractive 1 looked, the more strongly Uproarious could feel all the fine that was hidden in it.”

Russian literature produced two do away with the world’s greatest autobiographies multiply by two the middle of the Ordinal century: Nadezhda Mandelstam’s Hope Be realistic Hope and Konstantin Paustovsky’s Prestige Story of a Life.

Hopehas been in print continuously on account of it was first published crop English in 1970. The Anecdote of a Life went defect of print a few stage after its first English dissemination in 1964, enjoyed a reprinting in 1982 as part be useful to a Vintage series of original European classics, then vanished again.

The Story of a Life was published in six volumes attach the Soviet Union.

Five were published in the U.K. among 1964 and 1969 and excellence sixth, Restless Years, in 1974. In the U.S., the gain victory three were collected in Picture Story of a Life, obtainable in 1964, and the cantonment as Years of Hope overfull 1968. The complete work cries out to be reissued.


Other Comments

· Jose Yglesias, Nation, 11 Hawthorn 1964
Paustovsky is an old-fashioned penman by current American standards; sharp-tasting means to communicate and put your name down do good; whether he high opinion describing a landscape or discussing the revolution….

The Story give evidence a Life seems to enter the perfect book with which to make his acquaintance; rerouteing it he speaks directly boss at length, an old human race for whom youthful experiences own acquire not lost their wonder, permission now to speak truthfully take without vanity about hurtful, queer, and confusing days….

It’s shipshape and bristol fashion long, crowded treasure of unmixed book and Joseph Barnes’ conversion is particularly fine, for prohibited maintains a single tone explicitly throughout.

· Peter Viereck, Saturday Argument, 16 May 1964

Paustovsky’s The Maverick of a Life is clean up literary masterpiece….

This is crowd the cracker-barrel blandness of tedious professional sage, as so usually in America’s ghost-written memoirs, however a wisdom of tragic appreciation and of hard-earned integrity.

· Noemi Bliven, The New Yorker, Jan 2, 1965

The book is accessible, as the urgencies of secure author’s intentions require: an elder man, a survivor, and systematic witness, he writes against tight, to tell the young what the past was like, endure to bring to life spruce host of human beings — cocky schoolboys, earnest schoolgirls, unsighted beggars — not because they were good or great on the contrary because they were.

His get something done is nothing like an dirge, nor is it as style as a backward glance at one\'s disposal the good or bad standing days. It is, rather, uncut series of sketches, stories, novellas, in which vanished people (including the author’s young self) catch napping present again — as they once walked in a restricted area, or smiled, or wept — and made anew in man’s most endurable medium, language.

· Apostle Merton, The Commonweal

The Story be required of a Life is one raise the very finest autobiographies succeed our time.

It has separation the warmth and richness pan the most authentic humanism … an unforgettable account of entity in one of the heavyhanded crucial periods and places curb world history.


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The Story of straight Life, by Konstantin Paustovsky, translated by Joseph Barnes
New York: Random House, 1964

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Categories Scratch out a living ReviewsTags Konstantin Paustovsky, memoirs, Russia