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1 Viktor Golyavkin funny stories for children about school 1
2 Viktor Golyavkin. NOTEBOOKS IN THE RAIN At recess, Marik tells me Let's run away from the lesson. Look how good it is outside! What if Aunt Dasha delays with portfolios? You need to throw portfolios out the window. We looked out the window near the wall dryly, and a little further away there was a huge puddle. Don't throw your portfolios into the puddle! We removed the straps from our trousers, tied them together, and carefully lowered our briefcases over them. At this time, the bell rang. The teacher entered. I had to sit down. The lesson has begun. Rain poured outside the window. Marik writes me a note: “Our notebooks are gone.” I answer him: “Our notebooks are gone.” He writes to me, “What are we going to do?” I answer him, “What are we going to do?” Suddenly they call me to the blackboard. I can’t, I say, I go to the blackboard. “How, I think, to go without a belt” Go, go, I will help you, the teacher says. You don't need to help me. Didn't you get sick by chance I got sick, I say. And what about homework? Good with homework. The teacher comes up to me. Well, show me your notebook. I am silent. What's going on with you? I am silent. You'll have to put in a two. He opens the magazine and gives me a F, and I think about my notebook, which is now getting wet in the rain. The teacher gave me a deuce and calmly says: You are somehow strange today ... 2
3 Victor Golyavkin. NO LUCK One day I come home from school. On this day, I just got a deuce. I walk around the room and sing. I sing and sing so that no one would think that I got a deuce. And then they will ask more, “Why are you gloomy, why are you thoughtful?” The father says: Why is he singing like that? And my mother says: He must be in a cheerful mood, so he sings. Father says: Probably got an A, that's fun for a man. It's always fun when you do something good. When I heard this, I sang even louder. Then the father says: All right, Vovka, please your father, show the diary. At this point, I immediately stopped singing. For what? I ask. I see, says the father, you really want to show the diary. He takes my diary, sees a deuce there and says: Surprisingly, he got a deuce and sings! What, is he crazy? Come on, Vova, come here! Do you happen to have a temperature? I don't have any temperature, I say... My father spread his hands and says: Then you need to be punished for this singing... That's how unlucky I am! Viktor Golyavkin. WHAT'S INTERESTING When Goga started going to first grade, he knew only two letters, O circle and T hammer. And that's it. I didn't know any other letters. And he couldn’t read. Grandmother tried to teach him, but he immediately came up with a trick. Now, now, grandmother, I’ll wash the dishes for you. And he immediately ran to the kitchen to wash the dishes. And the old grandmother forgot about her studies and even bought him gifts for helping with the household. And Gogin's parents were on a long business trip and hoped for a grandmother. And of course, they did not know that their son had not yet learned to read. But Goga often washed the floor and dishes, went for bread, and his grandmother praised him in every possible way in letters to his parents. And read aloud to him. And Goga, sitting comfortably on the sofa, listened with eyes closed. “Why should I learn to read,” he reasoned, if my grandmother reads aloud to me. He didn't even try. And in the class he shied away as best he could. The teacher says to him: Read it here. He pretended to read, and he himself told from memory what his grandmother read to him. The teacher stopped him. To the laughter of the class, he said: Do you want me I'd better close a window leaf so as not to blow. Or I'm so dizzy that I'll probably fall now ... He pretended so skillfully that one day his teacher sent him to the doctor. The doctor asked how are you? Bad, said Goga. 3
4 What hurts? All. Well then go to class. Why? Because nothing hurts you. How do you know? How do you know that? the doctor laughed. And he lightly pushed Goga to the exit. Goga never pretended to be sick again, but he continued to evade. And the efforts of classmates did not lead to anything. At first they attached Masha an excellent student to him. Let's study seriously, Masha told him. When? Goga asked. Yeah right now. I'll come now, said Goga. And he left and didn't come back. Then Grisha, an excellent student, was attached to him. They stayed in the classroom. But as soon as Grisha opened the primer, Goga reached under the desk. Where are you going? Grisha asked. Come here, called Gog. For what? And here no one will interfere with us. Yah you! Grisha, of course, was offended and immediately left. No one else was attached to him. As time went. He dodged. Gogin's parents arrived and found that their son could not read a single line. The father grabbed his head, and the mother grabbed the book that she brought to her child. Now every evening, she said, I will read this wonderful book aloud to my son. Grandmother said: Yes, yes, every evening I also read interesting books aloud to Gogochka. But the father said: You did it in vain. Our Gogochka has grown lazy to such an extent that he cannot read a single line. I ask everyone to leave for the meeting. And dad, along with grandma and mom, left for a meeting. And Goga was at first worried about the meeting, and then calmed down when his mother began to read to him from a new book. And even dangled his legs with pleasure and almost spat on the carpet. But he didn't know what the meeting was! What did they decide! So Mom read him a page and a half after the meeting. And he, dangling his legs, naively imagined that this would continue to continue. But when mom stopped at the very interesting place He got excited again. And when she handed him the book, he became even more excited. And then read it yourself, his mother told him. He immediately suggested: Come on, Mommy, let me wash the dishes. And he ran to wash the dishes. But even after that, my mother refused to read. He ran to his father. The father strictly said that he would never again turn to him with such requests. He slipped the book to his grandmother, but she yawned and dropped it from her hands. He picked up the book from the floor and gave it back to his grandmother. But she again dropped it from her hands. No, she had never fallen asleep so quickly in her chair before! “Is she really sleeping, thought Goga, or was she instructed to pretend at the meeting?” Goga pulled her, shook her, but her grandmother did not even think of waking up, and he so wanted to know what was happening next in this book! 4
5 In desperation, he sat down on the floor and looked at the pictures. But from the pictures it was difficult to understand what was going on there. He brought the book to class. But classmates refused to read to him. Not only that, Masha immediately left, and Grisha defiantly crawled under the desk. Goga stuck to a high school student, but he flicked his nose and laughed. How to be further? After all, he will never know what is written next in the book until he reads it. It remained to study. Read for yourself. That's what a home meeting means! That's what the public means! He soon read the whole book and many other books, but out of habit he never forgot to go out for bread, wash the floor or wash the dishes. That's what's interesting! Viktor Golyavkin. IN THE CLOSET Before the lesson, I climbed into the closet. I wanted to meow from the closet. They'll think it's a cat, but it's me. I sat in the closet, waited for the start of the lesson and did not notice myself how I fell asleep. I wake up in class quietly. I look through the crack, no one is there. He pushed the door, and it was closed. So I slept through the whole lesson. Everyone went home, and they locked me in the closet. Stuffy in the closet and dark as night. I was scared, I began to shout: Uh-uh! I'm in the closet! Help! Listened to the silence all around. Me again: Oh! Comrades! I'm in the closet! I hear someone's steps. Someone is coming. Who is yelling here? I immediately recognized Aunt Nyusha, the cleaner. I was delighted, I shout: Aunt Nyusha, I'm here! Where are you, dear? I'm in the closet! In the closet! How did you, dear, get there? I'm in the closet, grandma! So I hear that you're in the closet. So what do you want? I was locked in a closet. Oh, grandma! Aunt Nyusha left. Silence again. She must have gone for the key. Again steps. I hear the voice of Pal Palych. Pal Palych is our head teacher... Pal Palych tapped on the cupboard with his finger. There is no one there, said Pal Palych. How not. Yes, said Aunt Nyusha. Well, where did he say Pal Palych and knocked again on the cabinet. I was afraid that everyone would leave, I would stay in the closet, and I shouted with all my might I'm here! Who are you? asked Pal Palych. I... Tsypkin... 5
6 Why did you climb there, Tsypkin? They locked me up... I didn't get in... Hm... They locked him up! But he didn't get in! You've seen what magicians are in our school! They do not climb into the closet while they are locked in the closet. Miracles don't happen, do you hear, Tsypkin? I hear... Have you been sitting there for a long time? asked Pal Palych. I don't know... Find the key, Pal Palych said. Fast. Aunt Nyusha went for the key, but Pal Palych remained. He sat down on a chair nearby and waited. I saw his face through the crack. He was very angry. He lit up and said Well! That's where the prank comes in. Tell me honestly why are you in the closet? I really wanted to disappear from the closet. They open the closet, but I'm not there. As if I had never been there. I'll be asked "Have you been in the closet?" I'll say "I wasn't!". They will tell me “Who was there?” I'll say "I don't know!" But that only happens in fairy tales! Surely tomorrow mom will be called ... Your son, they will say, climbed into the closet, slept there all the lessons, and all that ... as if it’s comfortable for me to sleep here! My legs hurt, my back hurts. One pain! What was I to answer I was silent. Are you alive there? asked Pal Palych. Alive... Well, sit down, they'll open soon... I'm sitting... So... said Pal Palych. So you will answer me why you climbed into this closet. I was silent. Suddenly I heard the director's voice. He walked down the corridor. Who? Tsypkin? In the closet? Why? I wanted to disappear again. The director asked: Tsypkin, are you? I sighed heavily. I just couldn't answer anymore. Aunt Nyusha said: The head of the class took the key. Break the door, the director said. I felt the door being broken, the closet shook, I hit my forehead painfully. I was afraid that the cabinet would fall, and I cried. I rested my hands on the walls of the closet, and when the door gave way and opened, I continued to stand in the same way. Well, come out, said the director. And tell us what that means. I didn't move. I was scared. Why is he worth it? asked the director. They took me out of the closet. I was silent all the time. I didn't know what to say. I just wanted to meow. But how would I say about it... 6
7 Viktor Golyavkin. About scrap metal, Tolik was carrying an old rusty bed down the street. And Masha was carrying an old rusty anchor. They're taking it to school because it's scrap metal. Tolik says: There is more weight in my bed than in your stupid anchor. So I got more of you. Masha says: It's still unknown. My anchor is full and your bed is inflated. Tolik even stopped. How is that inflated? Very simple: my anchor is solid, but your bed is not solid. What kind of bed do I have? Tolik says. Masha also stopped and said: Your bed is inflated. What nonsense! Tolik says. How can it be that she is a ball or something? She is not a ball, Masha says, but she is puffed up nonetheless. These pieces of iron, they are empty inside. And my anchor is full inside. He's not pouty, if you want to know! Your rusty anchor! Tolik says. Your bed is inflated! says Masha. From the broken ship your anchor! Tolik says. At this time, an old woman was walking by. She was carrying bananas in her bag. Banana Old Woman says: Put this anchor on your bed. And carry it all together. But Tolik said: This is my scrap metal. And Masha said: This is my scrap metal. Ah, that's it! said the old woman. I didn't know that. And she left. And Tolik and Masha were at first surprised why the old woman said so, and then they were surprised why they said so to the old woman, because it doesn’t matter whose bed it is and whose anchor it is. Because it's for everyone. And they did just as the old banana woman told them. 7
8 Viktor Golyavkin. We are playing in Antarctica. Mom left home somewhere. And we were left alone. And we got bored. We flipped the table. They pulled a blanket over the legs of the table. And it turned out to be a tent. It's like we're in Antarctica. Where our dad is now. Vitka and I climbed into the tent. We were very pleased that Vitka and I were sitting in a tent, although not in Antarctica, but as if in Antarctica, and around us there was ice and wind. But we got tired of sitting in a tent. Vitka said: Winterers don't sit like this all the time in a tent. They must be doing something. Surely, I said, they are catching whales, seals and something else. Of course they don't sit like that all the time! Suddenly I saw our cat. I shouted: Here is a seal! Hooray! shouted Vitka. Grab it! He also saw a cat. The cat was walking towards us. Then she stopped. She looked at us carefully. And she ran back. She didn't want to be a seal. She wanted to be a cat. I understood it right away. But what could we do! There was nothing we could do. We need to catch someone! I ran, stumbled, fell, got up, but the cat was nowhere to be found. She is here! yelled Vitka. Run here! Vitka's legs stuck out from under the bed. I crawled under the bed. It was dark and dusty in there. But the cat was not there. I'm getting out, I said. There is no cat here. Here she is, Vitka argued. I saw her run here. I got out all dusty and began to sneeze. Vitka kept fiddling under the bed. She's there, Vitka insisted. So be it, I said. I won't go there. I whole hour sat there. I'm over it. Think! Vitka said. And I?! I climb here more than you. Finally Vitka also got out. Here she is! I shouted. The cat was sitting on the bed. I almost grabbed her by the tail, but Vitka pushed me, the cat jumped onto the closet! Try to get it out of the closet! What kind of seal is this, I said. Can a seal sit on a closet? Let it be a penguin, said Vitka. As if he is sitting on an ice floe. Let's whistle and shout. He then gets scared. And jump from the closet. This time we will capture the penguin. We began to yell and whistle with all our might. I really can't whistle. Only Vitka whistled. But I yelled at the top of my lungs. Almost hoarse. The penguin doesn't seem to hear. A very smart penguin. He lurks there and sits. Come on, I say, throw something at him. Well, at least throw a pillow. We threw a pillow on the wardrobe. The cat didn't jump out. Then we threw three more pillows on the closet, mother's coat, all mother's dresses, father's skis, a saucepan, father's and mother's slippers, many books and much more. The cat didn't jump out. Maybe it's not in the closet? I said. There she is, said Vitka. How is it there, since it is not there? Don't know! Vitka says. 8
9 Vitka brought a basin of water and placed it by the cupboard. If the cat decides to jump from the closet, let it jump right into the pelvis. Penguins love to dive into the water. We left something else on the closet. Wait, won't it jump? Then they put a table up to the closet, a chair on the table, a suitcase on the chair, and climbed onto the closet. And there is no cat. The cat is gone. It is not known where. Vitka began to get down from the closet and flopped right into the basin. Water spilled all over the room. This is where mom comes in. And behind her is our cat. She apparently jumped into the window. Mom threw up her hands and says: What's going on here? Vitka remained sitting in the pelvis. Before that I was scared. It's amazing, Mom says, that you can't leave them alone for a minute. You need to do this! Of course, we had to clean everything ourselves. And even wash the floor. And the cat importantly walked around. And she looked at us with such a look, as if she was going to say: “Here, you will know that I am a cat. Not a seal or a penguin.” A month later, our dad arrived. He told us about Antarctica, about the brave polar explorers, about their great work, and it was very funny to us that we thought that winterers only do what they do, that they catch different whales and seals ... But we did not tell anyone that we thought. Viktor Golyavkin. How I wanted to deceive everyone I don’t even want to talk about it. But I'll tell you anyway. Everyone thought I was really sick, and my flux was not real. It was I who slipped a blotter under my cheek, and my cheek was swollen. And in addition, he made a grimace, they say, how my tooth hurts! And I hum lightly; I did all this on purpose so that the lesson would not be asked. And Anna Petrovna believed me. And the guys believed. Everyone felt sorry for me, worried. And I pretended to be in a lot of pain. Anna Petrovna said: Go home. Since you have a toothache. But I didn't want to go home. I roll a blotter in my mouth with my tongue and think: “I deceived everyone!” Suddenly, Tanka Vederkina screams: Oh, look, he has flux on the other side! 9
10 Victor Golyavkin. There was not an extreme case. In the class, everyone wrote the retelling, and, as luck would have it, I fell ill that day. Five days later, he just showed up at school. Anna Petrovna said to me: Take home a book, read it and write it in your own words. Just don't read it more than twice. What if I don't remember? Write as you remember. And a third time for nothing? As a last resort, you can. I came home. I read it twice. As if he remembered. I just forgot how to write the word "window" through "a" or "o". But what if you open the book and look once? Or is this not an extreme case? This is probably not an extreme case. For the most part, I remember everything. I'd better ask dad if I can drop in a third time or not. This case is not extreme, said the Pope. There is a rule about unstressed vowels. And you must know this rule. I forgot the rule. I had to write randomly. Anna Petrovna read the story. What did you write the word "window" through "a"? I say: It was not an extreme case. And I could not look into the book for the third time. And then I would write correctly. Viktor Golyavkin. My work The older brother made the receiver, and the younger one walked around and interfered. And I want to work, he asked. Here you are, said the elder brother. You have a hammer and a nail. The younger one found a piece of plywood and got to work. Knock-knock-knock all plywood in holes! Even the whole stool has holes in it. I didn't even make a hole in my finger. Come on, said the older brother, give it here. And nailed the plywood to the receiver. That's all, said the elder brother, the receiver is ready. The younger went out into the yard and brought the guys. This is what I did. My job! Did you make the whole receiver? Not all, of course, but the main part. Without it, the receiver would not work. 10
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Golyavkin, Viktor Vladimirovich
| Viktor Golyavkin | |
| Name at birth: |
Viktor Vladimirovich Golyavkin |
|---|---|
| Date of Birth: | |
| Date of death: | |
| Citizenship: |
USSR → |
| Occupation: | |
| Years of creativity: | |
| Direction: |
adult and children's literature |
| Genre: | |
Viktor Vladimirovich Golyavkin(August 31, Baku - July 24, St. Petersburg) - Russian Soviet writer, artist.
Biography
Creation
A feature of the writer 's stories is their brevity along with witty benevolent humor . This is a feature rarely found in the literature - brevity. So capacious brief style requires special writing skills, which Golyavkin owned like no other. The heroes of his stories are always funny, but active and charming. long stories are rare. Some of the shortest are stories such as "Drawing", "Four Colors", "Friends", "Sick", for example, the story "Drawing":
Alyosha drew trees, flowers, grass, mushrooms, the sky, the sun and even a hare with colored pencils.
What is missing here? he asked dad. "There's enough of everything here," said Dad. - What is not enough here? he asked his brother. "That's enough," said the brother.
Then Alyosha turned the drawing over and wrote on the back in such big letters:
AND BIRDS STILL SINGING - Now, - he said, - there is enough of everything!
Such short stories often found in the writer.
The second volley of "Aurora"
In December 1981, Soviet society was preparing to celebrate the 75th anniversary of the head of state L. I. Brezhnev. Every year at this time, respectively last years stagnation of the established tradition, the country reported to the Party and the leader about the next successes in the construction of communism.
In the anniversary issue 12 of the Aurora magazine for 1981, and it was on the 75th page that Victor Golyavkin's story "Jubilee Speech" was published. In terms of volume, the story occupied exactly one page in the "Humor" section. In itself, a rather innocent and funny content, retelling a feast eulogy addressed to an unnamed hero of the day.
Moreover, on the second page of the cover was placed a color portrait of the hero of the day - L. I. Brezhnev, the work of the artist D. Nalbandyan, accompanied by the caption: "Dedicated to the 75th anniversary of L. I. Brezhnev." According to the old Russian literary tradition, the placement of the story on a page that coincided with the number of years of the "culprit" of the anniversary, did not raise any doubts about who exactly this story was dedicated to. The very content of the “anniversary speech” was ambiguous, clearly demonstrating the lack of respect for the “anniversary hero” who had long been bored by everyone.
| It is hard to imagine that this wonderful writer is alive. I can't believe he's walking the streets with us. It seems like he died. After all, he wrote so many books! Anyone who has written so many books would have been in the grave long ago. But this one is truly inhuman! He lives and does not think of dying, to everyone's surprise. Most believe that he died long ago - so great is the admiration for this talent. After all, Balzac, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy have long been in the other world, like other great classics. His place is there, next to them. He deserved this honor! He sits in front of me, red-cheeked and fat, and it's hard to believe that he's going to die. And he probably doesn't believe it himself. But he will certainly die, how to drink to give. A huge monument will be erected to him, and the hippodrome will be named after him, he loved horses so much. His grave will be fenced. So he doesn't have to worry. We will see his bas-relief on the grate.
The day before yesterday I heard that he had passed away. The message was made by my daughter, who loved to joke. I will not hide that I felt joy and pride for our friend and comrade. - Finally! I exclaimed, “he will take his place in literature!” The joy was premature. But I don't think we'll have to wait long. He will not disappoint us. We all believe in him. We wish him to complete the work that he has not yet completed, and to please us as soon as possible. |
The story gave rise to quite unambiguous allusions.
The appearance of this story in the Soviet stagnant and thoroughly censored world of mass media had the effect of an exploding bomb. In literary and reader circles, he received the name "Second volley of Aurora" (in association with the first volley in October 1917). The issue of the magazine was withdrawn from sale and from central libraries, A Chief Editor magazine Gleb Goryshin and executive secretary Magda Alekseeva - dismissed. As Magda Alekseeva later wrote, “we were not just fired from work, but forced to “voluntarily” own will leave the editorial office. The circulation of the magazine has been reduced to a minimum.
Later, a rumor was circulated that the story was written by Viktor Golyavkin much earlier - fifteen years before the events described. And, of course, for a completely different reason and has nothing to do with Brezhnev. “We - the editors and Golyavkin - were not at all heroes who wished to accomplish a civil feat. Everything really happened, albeit tragicomically, but by chance,” M. Alekseeva explained.
Books
- Notebooks in the rain. L., 1959.
- My good dad: A story. - L .: Children's literature, 1964. - 96 p.
- Hello birds. - L., 1969. - 96 p. Stories.
- Stripes on windows. - L .: Children's literature, 1972. - 96 p.
- Amazing kids. - M. Children's literature., 1972 - 192 p., L. Children's literature., 1979 - 253 p.
- Harp and Boxing: A Novel. - L .: Soviet writer, 1969; 1979. - 288; 256 p.
- I'm always waiting for you with interest: Stories. - M.: Sovremennik, 1980. - 272 p.
- High Speeds: A Novel, Short Stories. - L.: Soviet writer, 1988. - 512 p.
- Favorites. - L .: Children's literature, 1989. - 511 p. ill. rice. author
- Love and the Mirror: Stories. - L.: LIO "Editor", 1991. - 272 p.
- Allow me to pass. L., 1992.
- Talkers. M., 1999.
- Everything will be fine. - St. Petersburg: Petersburg Writer, 2000. - 304 p.
- A Familiar Face: Stories. - St. Petersburg: Azbuka-Klassika, 2000. - 384 p. Comp. E. Peremyshlev.
- Favorites. - M.: Ast, Astrel, 2002. Compiled by L. Bubnova.
- Favorites. - M.: Zebra E, 2004. - 565 p.
To the cinema
- - My good dad (film based on the story of the same name)
- - Boba and the Elephant
- - Lyalka-Ruslan and his friend Sanka (TV movie based on the story “You come to us, come ...”)
Literature
- Shushkovskaya F. Victor Golyavkin. Essay on creativity. // On literature for children, no. 23. L., 1979
- Goryshin G. Viktor Golyavkin writes a story... // Golyavkin V. I am always waiting for you with interest. M., 1980
- Ludmila Bubnova. Arrow Golyavkin // "October", 2002, No. 10.
- Nikolay Kuznetsov. “Oh, it’s good for my head! ..” About Viktor Golyavkin // Neva, 1997, No. 9.
- Peremyshlev E. If you follow my example, then you need to start with boxing. Something like an interview with Viktor Golyavkin. // Golyavkin V. A familiar face. St. Petersburg, 2000
- Svetlana Ivanova. “I thought I was the only one ...” // “Znamya”, 2001, No. 8. Review of the collection “A Familiar Face”.
Notes
Links
- Victor Golyavkin on the website "Unofficial Poetry"
- Mich. Belomlinsky. Anniversary speech by Viktor Golyavkin. - Russian Bazaar No. 19(629) 8-14.05.2008
Categories:
- Personalities in alphabetical order
- Writers alphabetically
- August 31
- Born in 1929
- Baku-born
- Deceased July 24
- Deceased in 2001
- The dead in St. Petersburg
- Children's writers alphabetically
- Children's writers of the USSR
- Children's writers of Russia
- Russian writers of the XX century
- Artists of the USSR
- Writers of St. Petersburg
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See what "Golyavkin, Viktor Vladimirovich" is in other dictionaries:
- (1929, Baku July 27, 2001, Saint Petersburg), Russian writer and artist. Novels and stories for children, including "My good dad." Works for adults in the spirit of absurdism and black humor (“I am always waiting for you with interest”, “A familiar face”, etc.) ... encyclopedic Dictionary
Viktor Golyavkin. Carousel in the head. Publishing house " Fiction". Leningrad. 1976.I send her different entertainment, events, up to jumping from a parachute tower and a ferris wheel, I propose dances, a swimming pool and a planetarium, a zoo and a dog show, a stadium and an exhibition of paintings, go out of town by train, I put forward, finally, the version of sending my parents out of town - by train, and invite her over. But to everything she answers me: EVERYTHING IS ALL the same.Storybook.
Guys!
The heroes of these stories are the same as you, boys and girls. In their life, probably, just like yours, there are difficult moments. The minutes that put serious question: who are you? courageous man or a coward, honest or a liar, a true friend or just like that, a random fellow traveler...funny and instructive stories and the story of the famous children's
writer for elementary school children.
The author warmly, with good humor tells about the life of modern children,
about their problems, hobbies, interests.Golyavkin Victor Vladimirovich (1929-2001) - writer, artist, book chart. Most famous received as the author of funny stories and stories for children. It was as a children's writer that Viktor Golyavkin was admitted to the Writers' Union of the USSR in 1961. In 2000, the IBBY international section awarded him the Andersen Honorary Diploma as the best children's writer Russia.
Golyavkin Viktor Vladimirovich
Novels and stories
OUR TALKS WITH VOVKA
About me and about Vovka
I live with my father, mother and sister Katya. In a big house next to the school. Vovka still lives in our house. I am six and a half years old and I do not go to school yet. And Vovka goes to the second grade. We are very good friends, only he likes to tease. For example, he drew a picture: a house, a sun, a tree, and a cow. And he says that he drew me, although everyone will say that I am not there. And he says: “You are here, you hid behind a tree.” Or something like that.
One day he asks me:
You know?
I answer him:
Don't know.
Oh, you, - he says, - you don't know!
How can I know?
And I know there are stars in the sky.
This I know too.
Why didn't you tell me right away? - And laughs. - When you go to school, you will know everything.
I thought a little, then I say:
You know?
Oh, you, - I say, - do not know!
What don't I know?
That I'm standing next to you. And also a student!
Vovka immediately took offense.
You and I are friends, - he says, - and you tease.
It's you, - I say, - and not I teased.
Since then, Vovka has become less teasing. Because I mimicked it. But all the same, he sometimes forgot and began to tease again. And all because he goes to school, and I can’t go to school.
About how I decided to go to school
This is what happened to me last year...
Vovka had a way to remember. If Vovka wanted to remember something, he would sing out loud. I also remembered how Vovka sang the letters: “A-a-a-a bvgd-uh-uh ...”
I go and sing at the top of my lungs. Everything turned out like Vovka. Only Katya really bothered me. She followed me and sang too. She is only five years old, and she climbs everywhere. He sticks his nose into everything. She has an unbearable personality. There is no rest from her. She did a lot of trouble: she broke a decanter, three plates, two cups and a jar of jam. I locked myself in the bathroom to sing the letters. And she knocks on the door and cries. And what does a person need? Why would she sing with me? Unclear. Well, my mother took her away, otherwise I would have confused the letters. And so I remember everything perfectly.
I came to Vovkin's class and sat down at the desk. Some boy began to chase me, but I grabbed the desk and did not leave. He had to sit at another desk.
The teacher immediately noticed me. He asked:
Where are you from, boy?
I'm nine years old, I lied.
It doesn't look like it, said the teacher.
I came myself, - I said, - I can sing letters.
What letters?
Are there any other letters?
Of course have. - And shows me a book.
Oh, and there are a lot of letters! I was even scared.
I can't do that much, I'm still small ...
Did you think you were already big?
I didn't think I was that small. I'm as tall as Vovka.
And who is Vovka?
There he is, I said. We played with him...
He's lying! shouted Vovka. - I am higher!
Everyone laughed. The teacher said:
I believe both of you. Especially since you were measured. But you don't know all the letters.
That's right, I said. But I will learn them.
When you learn, come. And now it's too early.
Surely, I say, I will come. Goodbye.
Goodbye, the teacher says.
Here's how it turned out!
I thought Vovka would tease.
But Vovka did not tease. He said:
Do not be sad. You only have to wait two years. It's quite a bit of a wait. Others have to wait much longer. My brother has to wait five years.
I don't burn...
What to grieve! ..
Nothing to worry about, I said. - I'm not angry...
In fact, I grieved. But I didn't show it.
I have an extra primer,” said Vovka. - My father bought me one primer, my mother bought another one. Do you want me to give you a primer?
I wanted to give him a guards ribbon in return. He has been asking me for this tape for a long time. He didn't take the tape.
I am for the primer, - he says, - I will not take the tape. Learn please. I do not mind.
Then just like that, - I say, - take the tape.
It's just possible.
I would give you my dream, I say. “But sleep is impossible. You know, do not you.
The fact is that Vovka always dreams of roosters. And dream of nothing else. He himself told me about it. And me different dreams dream. How I climbed the mountains, oh, and it was difficult! I even woke up. As I stood as a goalkeeper. Caught a hundred balls.
And I’m all cocks ... - Vovka sighed. - So boring!
And you drive them.
How to drive them? After all, they are in a dream ...
Drive anyway.
I really wanted to help him. So that he had normal dreams, and not some kind of roosters. But what could I do! I would gladly give him my dream!
About one and two
Today Vovka came home from school furious. Doesn't want to talk to anyone. I immediately understood what was the matter. I probably got two. Every evening he plays in the yard, and then suddenly he sits at home. Maybe his mom didn't let him. It happened once already. He then brought one. And why do people grab deuces? Yes, more units. Like you can't do without them. Irresponsible, as my dad says. I will definitely be conscious. After all, from deuces everyone is sad - both dad and mom ... Maybe it's hard to study at school? Look how Vovka suffers from this. He sits at home, he is not allowed into the yard. It's hard to study at school. Will it be difficult for me to study? Mom will scold me, put my nose in a corner, not let me into the yard to play with the guys. What kind of life will it be? We need to talk to Vovka. Find out everything about the school from him. And then it will be too late. I will go to school myself. It's better to know now. Maybe pick up and leave? Somewhere on the edge of the world?
In the evening I asked my dad why Vovka had enough deuces.
He's just a slacker," Dad replied. - He's unconscious. The state teaches him for free. Teachers spend time on it. Schools were built for him. And he. know yourself a deuce brings ...
So there is Vovka! He is a quitter. I couldn't even imagine how it was possible! After all, they even built a school for him. This I could not understand. For me, if a school were built... yes, I would... I would study all the time. I just wouldn't leave the school.
I met Vovka the other day. He was walking from school.
Got five! he shouted joyfully.
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Biography, life story of Golyavkin Viktor Vladimirovich
Viktor Vladimirovich Golyavkin is a Soviet writer and artist who made himself very prominent in the second half of the 20th century.Childhood
Victor was born in Baku on August 31, 1929 in the family of Vladimir Sergeevich Golyavkin, who worked as a music teacher. No wonder the boy, along with his two younger brothers received primary musical education on the best samples of the world musical classics. Parents prepared their sons for a musical career.
Nevertheless, when Victor once drew expressive caricatures of guests who came to play music at his house, his father gave him a book on painting. Since then, Victor tried to read all the books available at that time about artists and fine arts, and also constantly painted himself.
adolescence
Victor was twelve years old when Nazi Germany attacked the USSR. His father went to the front, and the teenager remained the eldest man in the family. He drew caricatures of the Nazis and Schicklgruber.
Youth years
After the war, Victor entered art school, located in Samarkand, and then transferred first to Tashkent, and later to Dushanbe.
After graduating from college and having absorbed the expressive examples of the art of the East, young artist continued his education in Leningrad, enrolling in the Academy of Arts. The city on the Neva made a great impression on the young man with its remarkable Western European architecture and the abundance of world famous museums and art galleries.
Literary activity
Soon after graduating from the Academy of Arts, Golyavkin discovered in himself and literary gift. He began to write short stories, which, although they did not fit into the official style of the then Soviet literature, however, were well received by children.
His stories for children were published in the magazines Murzilka and Bonfire, and their number constantly increased. In 1959, the first collection of short stories for children and youth, entitled Notebooks in the Rain, was published by the novice writer.
CONTINUED BELOW
Marietta Omarovna Chudakova, who was one of the recognized literary critics, noted that prose intended for children was in those years in the USSR in a specific " ecological niche”, unaffected in any way by socialist realism. Thanks to this, it was in Russian children's literature that at that time it was possible to write sincerely, honestly, without any falsehood, as Viktor Golyavkin did.
Maturity
Although literature intended for adults could not, as before, break through the mass of bureaucratic and ideological barriers to the general reader, the stories of Viktor Vladimirovich Golyavkin began to be widely distributed in samizdat. The well-known dissident Alexander Ilyich Ginzburg published some of them in his journal Syntax in 1960. One of these stories, which was called "Jubilee speech" and was "accidentally" published in the humor section of the Leningrad magazine "Aurora" in No. 12 for 1981, nearly cost its author his freedom.
The fact was that in December 1981 in the USSR they were preparing to celebrate the 75th anniversary of Secretary General CPSU, whose position he held at that time. Viktor Vladimirovich Golyavkin in his "Anniversary Speech", not at all thinking about possible political analogies, subtly ironic about speeches about glorious dates and in honor of high-ranking birthdays. Democratic literary circles both capitals immediately equated the appearance of this story in terms of its impact on an enlightened reader with the “second volley of Aurora”. The authorities immediately took retaliatory measures, withdrawing the issue of the magazine from sale and dismissing the executive secretary and editor-in-chief, and Viktor Vladimirovich in all official publications on long years the red light was on.
Old age
After the formation of capitalism, many of the works of Viktor Vladimirovich Golyavkin, written by him in early years literary creativity. In 2000, the writer's book entitled "A Familiar Face" was published. Although on its cover was one of the author's drawings, called "Children Build on the Sand", nevertheless this book was addressed to an adult audience. She received very positive reviews.
Viktor Vladimirovich Golyavkin died on 07/24/2001 and was buried in the cemetery of the village of Komarovo.
