Why kuprin. Kuprin's lost fight. The last years of the writer's life

Russian writer Alexander Ivanovich Kuprin (1870–1938) was born in the town of Narovchat, Penza province. A man of difficult fate, a career military man, then a journalist, emigrant and “returnee,” Kuprin is known as the author of works included in the golden collection of Russian literature.

Stages of life and creativity

Kuprin was born into a poor noble family on August 26, 1870. His father worked as a secretary in the regional court, his mother came from a noble family of Tatar princes Kulunchakov. In addition to Alexander, two daughters grew up in the family.

The life of the family changed dramatically when, a year after the birth of their son, the head of the family died of cholera. The mother, a native Muscovite, began to look for an opportunity to return to the capital and somehow arrange the life of the family. She managed to find a place with a boarding house in the Kudrinsky widow's house in Moscow. Three years of little Alexander’s life passed here, after which, at the age of six, he was sent to an orphanage. The atmosphere of the widow's house is conveyed by the story “Holy Lies” (1914), written by a mature writer.

The boy was accepted to study at the Razumovsky orphanage, then, after graduation, he continued his studies at the Second Moscow Cadet Corps. Fate, it seems, destined him to be a military man. And in Kuprin’s early works, the theme of everyday life in the army and relationships among the military is raised in two stories: “Army Ensign” (1897), “At the Turning Point (Cadets)” (1900). At the peak of his literary talent, Kuprin writes the story “The Duel” (1905). The image of her hero, Second Lieutenant Romashov, according to the writer, was copied from himself. The publication of the story caused great discussion in society. In the army environment, the work was perceived negatively. The story shows the aimlessness and philistine limitations of the life of the military class. A kind of conclusion to the dilogy “Cadets” and “Duel” was the autobiographical story “Junker”, written by Kuprin already in exile, in 1928-32.

Army life was completely alien to Kuprin, who was prone to rebellion. Resignation from military service took place in 1894. By this time, the writer’s first stories began to appear in magazines, not yet noticed by the general public. After leaving military service, he began wandering in search of income and life experiences. Kuprin tried to find himself in many professions, but the experience of journalism acquired in Kyiv became useful for starting professional literary work. The next five years were marked by the appearance of the author’s best works: the stories “The Lilac Bush” (1894), “The Painting” (1895), “Overnight” (1895), “Barbos and Zhulka” (1897), “The Wonderful Doctor” (1897), “ Breget" (1897), the story "Olesya" (1898).

The capitalism that Russia is entering has depersonalized the working man. Anxiety in the face of this process leads to a wave of workers' revolts, which are supported by the intelligentsia. In 1896, Kuprin wrote the story “Moloch” - a work of great artistic power. In the story, the soulless power of the machine is associated with an ancient deity who demands and receives human lives as a sacrifice.

“Moloch” was written by Kuprin upon his return to Moscow. Here, after wandering, the writer finds a home, enters the literary circle, meets and becomes close friends with Bunin, Chekhov, Gorky. Kuprin marries and in 1901 moves with his family to St. Petersburg. His stories “Swamp” (1902), “White Poodle” (1903), “Horse Thieves” (1903) are published in magazines. At this time, the writer is actively involved in public life; he is a candidate for deputy of the State Duma of the 1st convocation. Since 1911 he has lived with his family in Gatchina.

Kuprin’s work between the two revolutions was marked by the creation of love stories “Shulamith” (1908) and “Pomegranate Bracelet” (1911), distinguished by their bright mood from the works of literature of those years by other authors.

During the period of two revolutions and the civil war, Kuprin was looking for an opportunity to be useful to society, collaborating either with the Bolsheviks or with the Socialist Revolutionaries. 1918 became a turning point in the life of the writer. He emigrates with his family, lives in France and continues to work actively. Here, in addition to the novel “Junker,” the story “Yu-Yu” (1927), the fairy tale “Blue Star” (1927), the story “Olga Sur” (1929), a total of more than twenty works, were written.

In 1937, after an entry permit approved by Stalin, the already very ill writer returned to Russia and settled in Moscow, where a year after returning from emigration, Alexander Ivanovich died. Kuprin was buried in Leningrad at the Volkovsky cemetery.

It is quite difficult and at the same time easy to write about Alexander Ivanovich Kuprin. It’s easy because I’ve known his works since childhood. And who among us doesn’t know them? A capricious, sick girl demanding an elephant to visit her, a wonderful doctor who fed two frozen boys on a cold night and saved an entire family from death; a knight immortally in love with a princess from the fairy tale “Blue Star”...

Or the poodle Artaud, performing incredible cubrets in the air, to the sonorous commands of the boy Seryozha; cat Yu-yu, gracefully sleeping under the newspaper. How memorable, from childhood and from childhood itself, all this, with what skill, how concisely - easily written! As if on the fly! Childlike - direct, lively, bright. And even in tragic moments, bright notes of love of life and hope sound in these simple-minded stories.

Something childish, surprised, always, almost until the very end, until death, lived in this large and overweight man with clearly defined oriental cheekbones and a slightly cunning squinting of his eyes.

Meanwhile, from an early age his life was by no means conducive to maintaining such youthful, fresh, constant wonder at the world. Rather, she taught little Sasha to know her to the subtleties mercilessly - a bitter taste... He almost did not know his father, grew up half-orphan, and his mother, nee Princess Kulanchakova, was a proud and powerful woman, with something hidden deeply, so that she could not make out Out of vanity, she was forced to go give lessons, to be a hanger-on in rich houses, in order to give her son an education and upbringing.

What could the born princess not forgive her late husband, who ruined the family and left her a petitioner - a widow? Is it an unequal marriage, or a faded and quiet life in provincial Narovchatov, where Sasha Kuprin, her only son, was born on September 7, 1870? Most likely - both. And there is much more, unknown to us, that an embittered woman, offended by the whole world, accumulates in her soul... Soon after the birth of the child, the husband of the “beggar princess,” as her relatives ironically called her, died suddenly.

Young, still very attractive, graceful, now - not a princess of the ancient Kulanchakov family, but the widow of Ivan Kuprin and the mother of a four-year-old smart, dark-eyed boy, left almost without funds, on her last pennies, she hastily moved to Moscow.

For some time, the Kuprins lived at the mercy of their wealthy relatives, then Lyubov Alexandrovna got a job as a governess, giving music and language lessons. When leaving, she tied Sasha to a chair, or drew a circle with chalk, beyond which he could not go until her return. Even while playing!

Hidden, suppressed outbursts of the imperious, proud, temperamental and very bright nature of Lyubov Alexandrovna Kuprina were expressed somehow distortedly, painfully, as if in a distorting mirror: she could hit her son for the slightest, trivial offense, beat his fingers with a ruler until they bled, ridiculed him for the sake of benefactors who provided bread and shelter, his gait, manners, irregular facial features - the shape of his nose, for example! The laughter was evil, not deliberate - dry and merciless. Sasha had to endure all this in silence, since his mother, grimacing to please them, often gave him a piece from the table of laughing benefactors. But scars remained on his soul...

Best of the day

Even in adulthood, Alexander Ivanovich could not forget to her the humiliations he suffered as a child. One of Kuprin’s acquaintances said that already being a famous writer, he was unable to restrain himself in response to some caustic remark from his mother, and when guests later asked him to read something from prose, he began to read an excerpt from a story or story containing an autobiographical episode about mother's bullying.

Of course - intentionally. The passage ended with the furious words: “I hate my mother!” The listeners fell stunned into silence, expecting a scandal. But nothing of the kind followed. Lyubov Aleksandrovna listened to this entire harsh prosaic tirade - the verdict in silence, with a proudly straightened back and dryly pursed lips, and Alexander Ivanovich, at the end of his sharp “denunciation”, simply silently sat down on the chair.

Only a hidden fire sparkled in his eyes - either rage or pain. But he remained silent. Lyubov Alexandrovna then, still silent, rose and left the room, with the gait of an offended queen, without even turning around.

A few days later, as if nothing had happened, she again came to tea with her son, and he respectfully met her on the porch and led her into the house.

Such very peculiar relationships and “lessons of maternal tenderness”, of course, were not in vain.

Kuprin very early developed a keen gift of psychological observation; he seemed to learn to see the “wrong side”, the motive of every human action, and “separate the wheat from the chaff.”

I learned to withdraw into myself when it was too bad, to concentrate, to reflect. Imagine. He was very attached to animals, finding in them silent and devoted friends who would not maliciously ridicule your every gesture. He always avoided people a little. It didn’t open up to everyone, not right away. .

The mental scars hurt for a long time.. What can I do? Sometimes, for such pain, “from childhood” there is no medicine at all.

His mother managed to send him to an orphan school at public expense, then to a cadet corps, where he suffered many slaps and beatings not only from teachers, but also from

“comrades” and even... from ministers. After graduating from the Alexander Junker School, Kuprin spent four years in military service, to please his mother, who dreamed of seeing an officer’s shoulder straps on him. It is from here that he has an excellent knowledge of army life, the life of seedy military garrisons, and the details of army campaigns. And these are easily recognizable types and images: seasoned officers, young warrant officers, gray-moustached generals, slightly faded under a layer of powder, capricious regimental ladies and shabby Breter - ladies' men.

Tolstoy, having read Kuprin’s story “The Duel,” without spending many words admiring the writer’s talent, only said that “absolutely everyone, when reading, feels that everything written by Kuprin is true, even ladies who do not know military service at all.” Simple and meaningful praise from the lips of a recognized Master of Words

Kuprin always shone with his talent in stories of the “army theme”, describing what he knew very well, felt not only with his soul, but with his skin. This - writing about what you know and understand “at your fingertips” - was something Tolstoy valued above all else!

But still, how, from what “small” paths did Kuprin’s large and extremely complex path take shape, which led him to fame, fame of such a kind that newspapermen, publishers, in the words of I. A. Bunin: “ran after him, begging for to the editor of the newspaper, even half a paragraph, even half a page...”, and put him on the edge of the abyss of drunkenness and poverty abroad, in Paris.

This is how Kuprin himself told Ivan Bunin about himself when they first met, at the dacha of the Karyshevs - mutual friends, as it turned out.

He told the story simply, sincerely, in his army patter, with the emphasis on the first syllable: “Where am I from now?.. From Kyiv.. I served in a regiment, near the Austrian border, then I left the regiment, although I consider the rank of officer to be the highest.. I lived and hunted. in Polesie - no one can even imagine what hunting wood grouse before dawn is like! (From there, probably, the impressions and facts that were later included in the famous story “Olesya” - S. M.)

Then, for pennies, I wrote all sorts of vile things for a Kyiv newspaper, huddled in the slums, among the very last scum.. What am I writing now? I can’t think of anything at all and the situation is terrible - look, for example, my boots are so broken that I have nothing to go to Odessa with.. Thank God that the dear Kartashevs gave me shelter, otherwise I would have at least stolen.”

(Bunin I. “Memories of Kuprin.”)

Bunin, dumbfounded by such sincerity and immediately struck by it, suggested that Kuprin write something about the soldiers, about the army, which “he probably knew well.”, promising assistance in publishing the material: Bunin knew M. L. Davydova, publisher of the major Russian magazine "World of God", often visited her house, and at one time even intended to throw in his lot with her. Until I introduced Maria Lvovna to Kuprin... But more on that in a paragraph below. To Bunin’s unexpected, heartfelt offer to write and publish - they somehow immediately and warmly got along, feeling a kinship of souls - Alexander Ivanovich at first hesitantly refused, but, nevertheless, in almost one night he wrote an excellent story “Night Shift”, then another that's a short essay.

He and Bunin immediately sent the “night shift” to the “World of God”. The story was immediately published and Kuprin received his first royalty of 25 rubles, which he used to buy himself new boots!

“The first years of our acquaintance with him,” Bunin wrote in his essay about Kuprin, “we met with him most often in Odessa, and I saw him sink more and more, spending his days, now in the port, now in zucchini and pubs, spends the night in the most terrible rooms, does not read and is not interested in anyone or anything except circus wrestlers, clowns and port fishermen... At this time he often said... that he became a writer completely by accident, although he indulged himself with great passion when he met me. savoring all kinds of keen artistic observations...” (Bunin. “Memories of Kuprin.”)

Probably, the talent of a writer of everyday life - a realist - quietly, latently lived in him, matured, patiently waited in the wings

And he waited. In the life of Kuprin, a freelance reporter and journalist for the almost provincial newspaper Odessa Listok, there suddenly came a sharp turning point.

He ended up in St. Petersburg and became close, with the help of the same Bunin, to the literary environment. I also entered the house of the already mentioned Maria Lvovna Davydova, an unusually intelligent, decisive woman, known in society for her bright, “gypsy” beauty and strong character. Kuprin unexpectedly and quickly proposed to her, “taking away” the bride from a friend, became the owner of the magazine “World of God,” and acquired the habits of a master, “almost a Tatar khan,” as friends noted with a grin.

But perhaps they, these habits, were simply dormant in him? Did the hidden princely blood finally take its toll?..

Kuprin quickly and easily became his own man in the highest literary circles, he was published vying with each other, and was invited to literary readings and evenings. This is where his “cold observations” in Odessa taverns and the port came in handy.

As you know, true talent never wastes anything. With each of his new things, Kuprin immediately won extraordinary and wild success. At this time he wrote “River of Life”, “Gambrinus”, “Horse Thief”, “Swamp”. Bunin classified them as Kuprin’s best works, although he regretted that Alexander Ivanovich did not go through his “literary conservatory”; neither his life, nor his sharp, reckless character, nor his perception of the Gift disposed him to do so! But, nevertheless, by the time the story “The Duel” was created, the writer’s fame in Russia was very great. Fate turned its face to him.

And here I will briefly break away from the clear recreation of the life outline of A.I. Kuprin, and allow myself a small paragraph of “philosophical-philological” reasoning.

With the readers' permission, of course. Those in a hurry can skip this paragraph!

Established professors and literary critics tirelessly talk and write that in the story “The Duel,” the writer simply brilliantly reflected “the process of decomposition of society, the army, the officers - on the eve of the revolution,” and so on, and so on... Familiar from youth words. Reasonable, because all this, of course, is true, because literature, like a good mirror, “reflects” the processes taking place in society - whether quietly or loudly.

But, if you think about it, and leave only the very essence in a wreath of lush word weaving, then Kuprin, acting as a writer of everyday life, a life writer, a realist, whatever, in the image of Lieutenant Romashov in “The Duel,” showed an ordinary, infantile loser who hastily took his own life ; a young man who for the first time encountered a period of disappointment, a psychological crisis of the “golden age”, and was unable to learn how to resist this crisis! Romashov’s torment, his torment, his doubts, his attempt to see life without rose-colored glasses and his disgust from it, all this is familiar, alas, to each of us! But if everyone shot?! Intelligent, psychologically, insightful as a writer, Kuprin so subtly showed the unsympathetic, internally helpless, selfish type of lieutenant, undoubtedly in the hope that modern youth, who every now and then shoot themselves in the forehead for no reason, will think about something after reading about their throwing - doubts in the mouth of a peer...

Perhaps that is why the harsh military censorship allowed Kuprin’s story, which produced the effect of an exploding bomb in society, to be published without cuts. Who knows? Come to think of it. Be that as it may, after the publication of The Duel, fame became completely akin to Kuprin and pursued him relentlessly.

However, the avalanche of recognition that fell on Kuprin after the publication of the sensational story did not change at all either himself or the essence of his talent, “large, fast, light, as if he were all on the fly, but without the cold transparency, grace, academicism necessary for a true masterpiece (O. Mikhailov. “Only the word is given life.” The novel is a study about Bunin and the Russian emigration in Paris in the 1920s. Personal collection of the author of the article.)

And the thundering Glory in no way diminished the bitterness of his suffering within his raging, confused, impetuous soul, nor did it soften the difficulties of family life.

“Fame and money seemed to give him one thing,” wrote Bunin, “complete freedom to do in his life what my heart wants, to burn his candle at both ends, to tell everyone and everything to hell.” (Bunin. “Memories of Kuprin.”) In part, this was so; you can’t deny Bunin’s powers of observation. Judge for yourself...

In May 1906, Kuprin unexpectedly “sent to hell” his marriage with M.L. Davydova, outwardly prosperous and brilliant, and a comfortable, well-established life in the estate - a dacha in Danilovsky and even... his daughter Lydia. He fell in love with Lydia’s governess, thin, dark-haired, much younger than himself, Elizaveta Moritsevna Heinrich, a former sister of mercy. I fell in love, not expecting such a storm of feelings from myself. And having laughed, he declared his love to his daughter’s quiet teacher. This happened on one of the invited evenings, at the dacha near a pond in water lilies.

The guests were noisy in the house, music was playing, and Kuprin, a huge, overweight, unusually strong man, confusing his words, confusedly and incoherently explained to Elizaveta Moritsevna something about the depth and seriousness of his feelings for her. She cried in response, but said that she could not reciprocate his feelings: you cannot destroy a family given by Fate, by God.

Kuprin objected to this that his family had been gone for a long time, that his wife, despite all her intelligence, beauty, independence, had long ago and madly tired of him! She was so tired that one day, in a fit of intoxication or confusion, he threw a burning match onto her light evening dress made of gauze, and, smiling indifferently, watched as it burned.

Maria Lvovna kept her cool and managed to extinguish the flames that started on her dress herself, forbidding the frightened servants from reporting to the police! She did not start a scandal, did not become hysterical, but the Kuprin family life was completely broken from that terrible evening.

Elizaveta Moritsievna Heinrich listened to this confession, a confession, stunned, but she resolutely refused to be close to Alexander Ivanovich, to respond to his feelings. All this is not Christian, not divine!

The next day, she hastily left her position as a governess in the Kuprins’ house and went to a godforsaken town to work as a ward sister in a military hospital. She had long felt a calling to this work: to care for the sick. In her daily worries, Sister Heinrich had already begun to forget the conversation with Kuprin that had amazed and shocked her imagination and heart, but suddenly, in a run-of-the-mill hospital, her mutual acquaintance with Alexander Ivanovich, Professor Fyodor Batyushkov, suddenly found her and told the confused Liza that Kuprin has been living alone for several months now, in a hotel, left his family, and received a divorce. He drinks incessantly, and in the intervals between countless glasses he begins to write desperate letters to her, Lizonka Heinrich, letters without an address... The entire floor of the hotel is strewn with scraps of paper.

The venerable master of science Fyodor Batyushkov simply begged Elizaveta Moritsevna to come to Kuprin as soon as possible and stay with him, otherwise he could die: just drink himself to death!

Elizaveta Moritsevna immediately agreed, but with one condition: that Alexander Ivanovich be treated for alcoholism. The condition was accepted. In the fall of 1906, in the now memorable Danilovsky, Alexander Ivanovich Kuprin was slowly writing one of his most beautiful stories, “Shulamith,” inspired by the immortal biblical “Song of Songs.” He dedicates it (not yet openly, of course!) to his beloved Lizonka - “a dark-haired bird, quiet, but with a character harder than steel”! She is next to him. Now - forever?

Their wedding took place in May 1907. Kuprin's fame then reached its zenith, his house was a full cup, his little daughter Ksenia had everything, even a toy house half a man's height, with dolls, furniture, carpets and paintings, exactly like the Emperor's eldest daughters! During the years of emigrant need, this house was sold for a considerable sum, on which the Kuprins lived in Paris for several months.

But in this small, friendly family there was not only the calm joy of solid wealth and literary popularity, not only parties, lunches and dinners, clockwork elephants and porcelain from the imperial factories, but also painful days full of hopeless despair.

I. A. Bunin once told how Kuprin took him early in the morning to the Palais Royal, a luxurious hotel, where they partied until late in the evening. Being in a completely insane state from drinking too much alcohol, Kuprin suddenly remembered that he needed to go to his wife. Bunin drove his drunken friend home in a cab. When he dragged him up the stairs (the Kuprins were renting the second floor), he saw Elizaveta Moritsevna sitting at the door on the landing. Bunin was taken aback by surprise, and Kuprin instantly lost all his intoxication: his young wife was then in the last weeks of pregnancy! It turned out that Kuprin absent-mindedly took the keys to the apartment with him, and when Elizaveta Moritsevna, in anxious anticipation, went outside the threshold for a couple of minutes, the door slammed. The servant had a day off, the pregnant woman couldn’t find the janitor, she was embarrassed to scream and call for help from the neighbors downstairs, so she had to sit waiting for her husband to return - the revelry was on the doorstep for several hours. Stunned by everything he saw and ashamed, Bunin could not come to his senses for a very long time also because the wife did not express a word of reproach to Kuprin, she only looked at him with the exhausted eyes of a victim. After this incident, Kuprin did not drink for quite a long time, although the servants neither the next day nor two days later heard loud screams, tears, or quarrels in the house. Quiet and silent in appearance, Elizaveta Moritsevna apparently had her own secret of power over her husband, and with this very secret managed to subjugate him so much that later, already in emigration, he did not know how, he simply did not want to, “could not do without her for a minute.” , not for a second!” - as daughter Ksenia recalled. In France, Elizaveta Heinrich-Kuprina managed literally everything, involved in all the little details of everyday life: renting housing, arranging furniture, copying out manuscripts, contracts with publishers, proofreading, plans for out-of-town trips and book sales. She opened a bookbinding workshop in Paris, and set to work very enterprisingly, but the competition turned out to be very tough for “strangers from Russia”, and the workshop had to be closed.

Alexander Ivanovich, during periods of his frequent heavy drinking bouts, could not help his wife in any way! He could not work systematically, he had no habit, in this he was not at all like Bunin! And his nervous system was extremely exhausted by such a disorderly lifestyle. He just followed his wife on his heels with a cat basket in his hands and the guilty look of a big child, waiting for her quiet but very imperious decisions. It seems that Kuprin always liked powerful women who make their own decisions, but he was afraid to admit it even to himself, alas!

And the powerful women in Kuprin’s life, perhaps (this is just the author’s view, nothing more! - S.M.) were more than anything else afraid to admit to themselves that they also liked such a life, the life of “rulers of souls and involuntary victims” who they can make any power decisions, because the husband always feels weaker than them, more guilty, or something... This is convenient. Interesting. This is the hidden meaning of all life. This is an eternal, subtle psychological calculation. And a complex of eternal, depressed, insolvency. The guilty husband and wife are the victim or the wife is the lioness. Variations on a theme. Classic story. However, we got very distracted.

Let's continue our story

It was with such an eternally guilty look that Kuprin looked at his wife, at the quiet Lizanka. She was his nanny, footman, cook, guard. Guards. Just like my mother once did.

Even in his drunken riots and revelries, known throughout Paris, Kuprin obeyed only her, a thin woman with sad black eyes. She was called by phone to a restaurant or cafe, in the middle of the night, when they wanted to calm down the “Russian gentleman - writer,” who was going wild, and she took Kuprin away from there, like a small, naughty child, him, huge, strong, five minutes ago waving his fists and destroying everything. your way: dishes, mirrors, furniture...

The violence of Kuprin's temperament ultimately brought him almost to his grave. He didn't work at all, couldn't write. The man who once lifted the massive Gumbs chair with one hand by the leg has become physically weaker!

Nevertheless, Kuprin still refused to give his works to publishing houses and magazines with an unimportant reputation, and forbade them to be disfigured by cuts, alterations and corrections. So, he was offered to make a film script based on the unfinished novel “The Pit”, only they were advised to slightly change the title, giving it a specific “eroticism”. They suggested calling the script: “The Pit with the Girls”! Kuprin fiercely, categorically opposed, kicked out the impudent producer of the porn film studio and was left without a lucrative order. Elizaveta Moritsevna did not reproach anyone here, to her credit, although there was almost no money in the house. How long could all this go on? Of course not. Kuprin, always tipsy, in a very shabby, almost holey, coat, in unraveled boots, once met Bunin and Galina Kuznetsova, on one of the boulevards of Paris. It was raining. Prickly, mixed with snow pellets. Big, disheveled, all somehow lost and confused, affectionate, like a child, Kuprin, waving his arms, hugged Bunin, whispering in his ear some kind, bewildered words, declarations of friendship. This was not drunken delirium. It was a fear of not being in time, of not saying enough, of not understanding, of not asking for forgiveness. Yes, it was as if Kuprin was saying goodbye. It was as if he felt that he was seeing his friend for the last time. And so it happened. Bunin, when parting with Alexander Ivanovich, could not hold back his tears, which was extremely rare with him.

Refusing to lead a half-starved, humiliating existence in France, having failed in all commercial endeavors, in attempts to take out a loan and credit - the insolvent emigrant writer was simply not given it - Elizaveta Kuprina decided to return to the Soviet Union to “red Russia, so despised by her husband, Moreover, the distant, benevolent Soviet government from overseas persistently invited Kuprin there, promising to provide all the benefits, imaginable and inconceivable. Kuprin’s books were published in huge editions in Russia - especially “The Duel”, “Olesya”, “The Garnet Bracelet”, almost the last completed, very sentimental work of Kuprin, assessed by the master of emigrant prose and his great friend, Boris Zaitsev, as a “completely worthless” thing. It is not known which Elizaveta Moritsevna Kuprina was forced to sign documents at the USSR Embassy, ​​whether she gave a signature on cooperation with the authorities, or whether she wrote a letter of repentance for Kuprin, as was customary then. All these documents, if they exist, lie in the dust of the archives; I have not been able to read them.

I can only guess, because there were many similar stories of “returning to the homeland” in those years. Everything played out as if according to notes. Including the last one. Execution, at best, is imprisonment, exile to remote camps.

Kuprin did not hear, did not receive the honor of this “last note” only because he was taken to Russia not to write, not to denounce, not to ask for forgiveness, but only to die. He was terminally ill. Not dangerous. Not scary for the new regime “behind the Iron Curtain”. Not scary at all. A sentimental, flabby old man in a chair, nothing more. This is the only reason why the authorities decided to organize a magnificent meeting for Kuprin in Moscow in the summer of 1937. Exactly a year later, on August 25, 1938, the writer quietly died.

________________________

He treated his Gift almost jokingly, lightly, without reverence. Glory did not burden him at all, he seemed not to notice her, a capricious, self-willed Lady. Kuprin did not notice, and how she turned away from him and left...

Only from time to time, thoughtfully, with a slight grin, he repeated to his friends the phrase he had once thrown out in a conversation with Bunin: “I became a writer by accident.” He repeated quietly and guiltily. But everyone had a hard time believing in her...

______________________________________________

** I express my heartfelt gratitude to A. N. Nozdrachev (Stavropol region) for his always unique help as a “friendly” editor and reader.

Gratitude
Lance 28.10.2007 01:46:32

Low bow to the author of the article. I can’t vouch for its authenticity, but it is worthy of the highest praise. The uniqueness of the article lies in its sensitivity. She hits the spot. Touches the sensitive strings of the soul. At the same time, the personal (motivated?) empathy of the author is visible, who introduces us to the world of life of a brilliant compatriot who revealed his world to the reader.

Alexander Kuprin is our own Jack London: a bottom explorer, a realist with a stormy biography. Before becoming a writer, he tried dozens of professions and activities. He was a military man, a circus wrestler, a fisherman, an aeronaut, he put out fires, worked as a salesman for “Engineer Timakhovich’s powder closet,” a land surveyor, a dentist, an actor, and an organ grinder. The only thing Kuprin loved more than adventure was vodka.

Kuprin's father, a minor official, died when his son was only two years old. The mother came from a family of Tatar princes. Kuprin attributed his violent temper to Horde blood. I found a love for literature and alcohol at the same time, thanks to my first (drinking) literature teacher. By the time Kuprin became famous for his stories, newspapers wrote about his drunkenness: the writer poured hot coffee on someone, threw him out of the window, threw him into a pool with a sterlet, stuck a fork in someone’s stomach, painted his head with oil paint, set fire to his dress...

The tavern's fame thundered louder than literary fame. Kuprin called alcohol a “short drink”: it ends quickly. Once he even sent a telegram to the emperor with a request to grant Balaklava the status of a free city, to which Nicholas II responded with a wish to have a snack.

One day his wife wrote him a letter, reproaching him for his drunkenness. In response, Kuprin sent her a laconic telegram: “Pi pyu bu pi” (drank, drink, will drink). Publishers chased him to restaurants, where he spent days and nights with random drinking buddies.

There were poems among the people about him: “If truth is in wine, how many truths are there in Kuprin!” and “The vodka is uncorked and splashing around in the decanter. Shouldn’t we call Kuprin for this reason?”

Having emigrated to France, Kuprin changed his violent disposition to a meek one, glory to poverty. He became a complete alcoholic, getting drunk from just one drink. I could hardly write: my hands were shaking. The aging writer was taken to Russia by his wife. Kuprin wanted to die in his homeland, “like a forest animal that goes to die in its den.” Creativity dried up along with vodka or thanks to it. Just like life, which also turned out to be a “short drink.”

Genius against use

1870-1893 He tries to drink as a child, and publishes his first story when he is already an officer (for which he ends up in a punishment cell). During the service he hangs out with all his might: drinks, plays cards. He rides a horse into a restaurant and drinks a glass of cognac without getting off. Receives the rank of lieutenant. He goes to St. Petersburg to take exams at the Academy of the General Staff. On the way, he throws the police officer out of the floating restaurant into the water. Resigns.

1893-1905 “Moloch”, “Duel”, “Olesya”. Rapidly changes professions. Becomes a reporter for a Kyiv newspaper. Wanders around the south of Russia, organizing scandalous sprees. He marries Maria Davydova and is a member of the editorial board of the magazine “God's World”. He drinks heavily, almost moving from home to the Capernaum tavern. His wife won't let him home until he slips a new manuscript under the door. Having received an advance, he gathers a group of drinking buddies and girls and drags everyone to the dacha, for which his wife hits him on the head with a decanter. After the publication of the volume in “Knowledge” he wakes up famous.

1907-1919 "Gambrinus", "Garnet Bracelet", "Pit". He falls in love with sister of mercy Elizaveta Heinrich. He goes on a drinking binge until she agrees to marry him - on the condition that Kuprin does not drink. He doesn't keep his word. With his new wife he moves to Odessa, where he drinks with the port workers at Gambrinus, and writes about it. With the outbreak of World War I, he briefly joined the army. In 1919, he left Russia with the whites.

1920-1936 "Junker". He lives in poverty in Paris, has poor vision, can’t drink, gets drunk on two glasses of red. “The doctor who examined him told us: “If he doesn’t stop drinking, he has no more than six months to live.” But he... held on for another fifteen years after that” (I. Bunin).

1937-1938 Returns to Soviet Russia. Pneumonia is added to cancer. Kuprin died on August 25, 1938.

(August 26, old style) 1870 in the city of Narovchat, Penza province, in the family of a minor official. The father died when his son was two years old.

In 1874, his mother, who came from an ancient family of Tatar princes Kulanchakovs, moved to Moscow. From the age of five, due to his difficult financial situation, the boy was sent to the Moscow Razumovsky orphanage, famous for its harsh discipline.

In 1888, Alexander Kuprin graduated from the cadet corps, and in 1890, from the Alexander Military School with the rank of second lieutenant.

After graduating from college, he was enrolled in the 46th Dnieper Infantry Regiment and sent to serve in the city of Proskurov (now Khmelnitsky, Ukraine).

In 1893, Kuprin went to St. Petersburg to enter the Academy of the General Staff, but was not allowed to take the exams due to a scandal in Kyiv, when, in a barge restaurant on the Dnieper, he threw overboard a tipsy bailiff who was insulting a waitress.

In 1894, Kuprin left military service. He traveled a lot in the south of Russia and Ukraine, tried himself in various fields of activity: he was a loader, storekeeper, forest walker, land surveyor, psalm-reader, proofreader, estate manager and even a dentist.

The writer's first story, "The Last Debut," was published in 1889 in the Moscow "Russian Satirical Sheet."

He described army life in the stories of 1890-1900 “From the Distant Past” (“Inquiry”), “Lilac Bush”, “Overnight”, “Night Shift”, “Army Ensign”, “Hike”.

Kuprin's early essays were published in Kyiv in the collections "Kyiv Types" (1896) and "Miniatures" (1897). In 1896, the story “Moloch” was published, which brought the young author wide fame. This was followed by "Night Shift" (1899) and a number of other stories.

During these years, Kuprin met writers Ivan Bunin, Anton Chekhov and Maxim Gorky.

In 1901, Kuprin settled in St. Petersburg. For some time he headed the fiction department of the Magazine for Everyone, then became an employee of the World of God magazine and the Znanie publishing house, which published the first two volumes of Kuprin’s works (1903, 1906).

Alexander Kuprin entered the history of Russian literature as the author of the stories and novels “Olesya” (1898), “Duel” (1905), “The Pit” (part 1 - 1909, part 2 - 1914-1915).

He is also known as a great master of storytelling. Among his works in this genre are “At the Circus”, “Swamp” (both 1902), “Coward”, “Horse Thieves” (both 1903), “Peaceful Life”, “Measles” (both 1904), “Staff Captain Rybnikov " (1906), "Gambrinus", "Emerald" (both 1907), "Shulamith" (1908), "Garnet Bracelet" (1911), "Listrigons" (1907-1911), "Black Lightning" and "Anathema" ( both 1913).

In 1912, Kuprin traveled through France and Italy, the impressions of which were reflected in the series of travel essays “Côte d'Azur”.

During this period, he actively mastered new activities that were previously unknown to anyone - he ascended in a hot air balloon, flew on an airplane (almost ending tragically), and went underwater in a diving suit.

In 1917, Kuprin worked as editor of the newspaper Free Russia, published by the Left Socialist Revolutionary Party. From 1918 to 1919, the writer worked at the World Literature publishing house, created by Maxim Gorky.

After the arrival of white troops in Gatchina (St. Petersburg), where he lived since 1911, he edited the newspaper "Prinevsky Krai", published by Yudenich's headquarters.

In the fall of 1919, he emigrated with his family abroad, where he spent 17 years, mainly in Paris.

During the emigrant years, Kuprin published several collections of prose: “The Dome of St. Isaac of Dolmatsky”, “Elan”, “The Wheel of Time”, the novels “Zhaneta”, “Junker”.

Living in exile, the writer lived in poverty, suffering both from lack of demand and from isolation from his native soil.

In May 1937, Kuprin returned with his wife to Russia. By this time he was already seriously ill. Soviet newspapers published interviews with the writer and his journalistic essay “Native Moscow.”

On August 25, 1938, he died in Leningrad (St. Petersburg) from esophageal cancer. He was buried on the Literary Bridge of the Volkov Cemetery.

Alexander Kuprin was married twice. In 1901, his first wife was Maria Davydova (Kuprina-Iordanskaya), the adopted daughter of the publisher of the magazine "World of God". Subsequently, she married the editor of the magazine "Modern World" (which replaced "World of God"), publicist Nikolai Iordansky, and she herself worked in journalism. In 1960, her book of memoirs about Kuprin, “Years of Youth,” was published.

On June 1, 1937, in issue No. 149 of the Pravda newspaper, a message was published: “On May 31, the famous Russian pre-revolutionary writer Alexander Ivanovich Kuprin, who returned to his homeland, arrived in Moscow. At the Belorussky railway station, A.I. Kuprin was met by representatives of the literary community and the Soviet press (TASS) ".

On June 5 of the same year, Literaturnaya Gazeta published a note “At Kuprin’s,” which quoted the words spoken by the author of “The Duel,” “Moloch,” “The Pit,” “White Poodle” and other brilliant literary works: “I am infinitely happy, - says A.I. Kuprin, “that the Soviet government gave me the opportunity to find myself again on my native land, in Soviet Moscow, new to me.”

Everything is true in these notes. Only one thing is at odds with reality: Alexander Ivanovich Kuprin is not a pre-revolutionary writer.

He is simply an outstanding writer of not only Russian but also worldwide significance. A writer with a very difficult fate, in which the global cataclysm of 1917 played the main and fatal role.

He returned to the “new, Soviet” Moscow from Paris, having lived in exile for almost twenty years. Life there was not very easy, not very well-fed and not very happy. About this life he wrote: “...Everything, everything is becoming more expensive. But writing is becoming cheaper by leaps and bounds. Publishers mercilessly reduce our fees, but the public does not buy books and stops reading altogether.” He also wrote to his friend, Ilya Efimovich Repin, about his love for Russia: “The further I move in time from my Motherland, the more painfully I miss it and the more deeply I love it... Do you know what I’m missing? It’s two or three minutes with sex from Lyubimovsky district, with a Zaraisk cab driver, with a Tula bathhouse attendant, with a Vladimir carpenter, with a Meshchera mason, I am exhausted without the Russian language...”

The complete collected works of A.I. Kuprin have been published in this language. Many of his works have been translated into other languages. “The Duel”, “The Pit”, “Garnet Bracelet”, “White Poodle” have been filmed more than once. His first story, “The Last Debut,” published in 1889 in the magazine “Russian Satirical Leaflet,” is not so widely known. For his first appearance in print, he received a solid scolding from the authorities of the Alexander School. He was released from it with the rank of second lieutenant and without much reverence for his “writerly beginnings.” He served in the 46th Ekaterinoslav (Dnepropetrovsk) Infantry Regiment, stationed in the tiny town of Proskurov, Podolsk province. He served for four years and during this time acquired a huge amount of literary knowledge, having thoroughly studied the provincial military life and other surrounding life, as they said even under the Tsar, in the Russian outback. And, like Second Lieutenant Romashov in the story “The Duel,” he submitted his resignation, terribly disillusioned with military service, which was distinguished by thoughtless drill and the impenetrable dullness of everyday life, the vulgarity of officer entertainment and the stupidity of his superiors. He was going to marry a sweet girl, similar in character to Shurochka Nikolaeva from “The Duel,” but the girl’s parents demanded that he not resign, but go to study at the Academy of the General Staff. Kuprin went to St. Petersburg, where he was so hungry that he even ate cat food, which he bought in a shop in one of the alleys of the old Nevsky, near the Nikolaevsky station... After his resignation and failed marriage, he ended up in Kyiv. He worked tirelessly as a reporter in several publications: “Kievsky Slovo”, “Kievlyanine”, “Volyn”. All these publications were distinguished by their increased yellowness and excessive indulgence of the tastes of the Kyiv inhabitants. Wrote a lot of notes, feuilletons, reports, essays. Then he introduced himself, not without sarcasm, in the story “By order”, the hero of which “... writes equally easily about gold currency and about the symbolists, about trade with China and about zemstvo bosses, about the new drama, about Marxists, about the stock exchange, about prisons, about artesian wells - in a word, about everything that he hears in the air with his subtle, professional instinct."