Gorodetsky and biography

Born in Dnepropetrovsk, but most of his life was associated with Siberia. After graduating from the Dnipropetrovsk Mining Institute, E. Gorodetsky worked for about ten years as a geologist engineer in survey expeditions in the north of the Krasnoyarsk Territory. And it is no coincidence that the “geological” topic, and with it, the topic of industrial development of Siberia later became trunk in his literary work.

The first work is the small story “The price of the seven” G. The story “Summer and Part of September” in the same year moves to Novosibirsk, from now on his whole life and work are connected with Siberia. In his works, and above all, in the most significant of them-the Roman-trilogy of the “Academy of Knyazev”, the writer honestly, without embellishment, spoke about the everyday, “black-working” side of the life of modern pioneers of Siberia-intelligence officers, oil workers.

The author introduces the reader into the wide world of modern geology from the everyday life of the field party to the activities of the Research Institute. Against the background of production conflicts, the novel is posed acute moral problems. The author of the ten books of prose published in Novosibirsk and Moscow. In the year, he acquired a house for a creative cottage in the village of Suzun district and from that time spent every summer there.

About how to improve his fortress and shelter, Evgeny Alexandrovich, told the readers of M. Schukin in the fourth issue for the year. A drunken hooligan village. This idea has long excited me, and then the hope appeared that in Moscow and Novosibirsk two books will be released in one year, which means that the material base will appear. And I realized: now or never.

In those days, it was officially possible to buy a house in the village, only by making a residence permit. But the writer's organization went with a letter to the chairman of the Suzun district executive committee, connected the party to the party, thanks to the unforgettable L. Reshetnikov, the kingdom of heaven, and I, the first and only of the Meretsky summer residents, are now listed for more than a hundred, became the owner of the official merchant with a stamp, where my city address was indicated.

And I received a local “residence permit” seven years later, when in my absence the house was thoroughly cleaned, they took everything valuable, and most importantly - a power tool, a rubble and a circular, and my writer's instrument is an old “Bashkiria”. But this is so, by the way. I liked the house at first sight. He stood on the hill, on the very shore of the rivulet, calmly and affably looked at me with the windows, and saw the architecture in his outlines, and in size the very thing - not too large, but not small.

On the foundation, under a tent slate roof. And I already knew that I would buy him, no matter what it costs me. Inside, the house turned out to be less attractive than outside. Two rooms, separated by a plank partition, in the first clay Russian stove, in the second camer. The floor is strong, from the wide hears, but clicked. On the walls and ceiling, a multi-layer whitish-gray-blue scaled, which I have an allergy from my youth.

And outside, from the side of the estate, under a common, in places, some kind of cream, chicken coopers, flocks ... “Yes, Yegor,” I told myself, “not to drag you here.” It was necessary to adjust the house under themselves, as the costume purchased in the commission was driven by the figure. Now, ten years later, I can only be surprised at the receality with which, most of my life, who lived in city apartments, where only work, that to add a shelf in the bathroom and hang cornices for curtains, took up the improvement of a village hut.

Carpenter, mason, concrete, steward painter, finisher finisher, carpenter, locksmith, roofer, tin-this is who had to visit during this time. I gave myself an installation - everything with my own hands! Only the stovenik had to hire - never before I had to see how the stove was laid. The master came across by village standards good - skillful, diligent and nonsense. And conscientious. He pretty possessed masonry techniques, but could not read the drawing of the structure that I chose.

I read this drawing, but I did not own masonry techniques at all. And now we had a strange interaction: I led them and I was on his patch. But then, when it was required to fix the constructive defect, I already coped myself. Most of all I liked to work with a tree. You take some shabby des, gray from time to time, you will scrape off the dried manure from it, clean it from the sand, you will pass through it with a shirt-and the light nature of the aged pine will open to the eye.

Ah, how high and piercing, my ruban smoked for the whole lamp! How bassovito chattered a circular! And then the tesin processed along the plumb line was sewn to the wall, covered with an Oliph and immediately became honey-yellow, and a unique wood pattern of wood immediately appeared. It was then that doubt crept into the soul: was that the way I went at the age of 17, when I chose a profession?

Maybe I didn’t have to go to the Tomsk Polytechnic, but for training for a red-cutting agent? Would now be a first -class master, and would live better, and would have received more joy from his work.And the “Academy of Knyazev” would still be written, not about geologists, but about the joiners ... Improvement is an endless process, and, having finished with the house, I began to build the complex “Bath - Summer Kitchen - woodcock”.

The material was the log house of the former bathhouse-the ancient forest of the iron fortress, in other places sparks flew from under the saw. So gradually, step by step, the estate acquired completeness. The neighbors first treated my long -term construction with condescending grin. A big romance could be plowed during this time that I was landscaped. However, maybe this is for the better that did not fall?

Be that as it may, I still composed two books here. And Litobbobbrebobed a few manuscripts for the "owner", a private publisher. Now about the garden. At first he was frankly into a burden - he distracted from construction. I almost did not plant potatoes, so, for the summer table, a few grooves of early grows, because there was nowhere to store it in the city then.

Cucumbers, tomatoes, greens - a little of all. In the fall, he took two or three pares in a backpack for households. Gardening attracted me to a greater extent, seedlings gathered from everywhere, including from the famous S. almost everyone took root, my hand turned out to be light, and the earth here is the most fertile: silt, sand and humus. Plus a special dummy microclimate.

Milk crops, and garden crops, up to eggplant, ripen well, ripen perfectly in open ground. About local nature, in general, the conversation is special. All that is rich in Western Siberia, all mushrooms, all berries, all the fish concentrated in this blessed corner, where two natural landscapes are so happily combined-a pine forest and a floodplain forest, a “fence” in a disastrous.

And a large river in its original form with many ducts, old people, floodplain lakes.

I bought it for this pristine, mercilessness, choosing the best. Who knew then, in the mercenary and domestic time, that the wastewater of Biysk and Barnaul after year is constantly destroyed in the Ob fish, who could guess that the tests at the Semipalatinsk training ground and got here! But back to the garden. What I liked was to grow seedlings. Observe the pale green loops of seedlings, to drink them like a child from a spoon, and when dive, he is like the creator himself, then granting life to the weak skeletons, then easily breaking it off, in your vain pride forgetting that you yourself are the same insignificant blade of epic in the hands of the Creator ...

I also liked the freshly smooth grooves with black raw land. Like a blank sheet of paper laid in a carriage of a typewriter. In gardening is like this: if the summer is dry - you are tormented with watering, if rainy - with weeding. The weather in the extent is wayward, often mental and does not let me get bored. Especially in July, when both heat and mosquitoes.

Because of them, the damned, you have to dress in the garden, as before going into outer space: two pairs of pants, so as not to be bought where it is covered, a storm, a stroke ... What a strange whim of fate! In the young years, he fought with mosquitoes in the north, and now, in the declining years, the same attack! Mosquitoes are a scourge, but it is its protection. If they weren’t, all the riverly lands would have already been built up, packed with all kinds of recreation centers and boarding houses.

And so, equipped, as in the routes along the marshy lowlands of the booty, you stand with a watering hose for two or three hours or crawl on the karachka, pulling out weeds, wet from sweat so that no sauna is needed, and you still have this carrots, and beets and tomatoes, and you have to grow all this, and we need to grow all this, remove the crop and relieve the crop and relieve the crop and the crop and the crop and the crop and the crop and the crop and the crop and Take it to the city.

To buy in a bazaar or in a store - no pension is enough. So you are spinning how much he takes up strength, and you try to keep up with, and in the forest for mushrooms or lingonberries to get out, and go fishing, and the Siberian summer is so short. But nevertheless, by the end, everything will be so, more likely home, in a city apartment with hot water and a toilet, where you do not need to go to the eagle pose, and behind the next house a beer stall and other benefits of civilization.

But at the fracture of winter, you already begin to take up about the outline, and the first echo of spring worries the soul and calls, calls. And this is the alternation of classes and places of residence and is a way of life, which includes a city apartment, a village house, a garden, and work to a caustic, interpretation of sweat, and, as a revelation, the understanding of the fact that if you are still capable of something in this life, then exclusively thanks to your tail.

Time by midnight, got dark. The village is sleeping, silence around. Only on one high note, reminiscent of a distant victorious “cheers”, mosquitoes behind a nylon grid in the window are sung, dogs whimper and shut up and a low buzz of ship diesel engines comes from the Ob. July G. District newspaper "New Life" in the years printed its essays "Ledyanka" and "Special migrants" under the cutting "Notes of Mikhail Portnyagin" by the resident of Mereti.

The story "Our Years" is also partially written in the village of Meret.The writer is primarily interested in how human characters are revealed in everyday life, and not in extreme situations. He focuses on the usual everyday life, ordinary everyday conflicts. His works are popular and recognition among readers. Gorodetsky made a great contribution to the development of modern literature and culture of Siberia.