Perenopovic romance
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Zakhar Prosepin is a prose writer, publicist, musician, winner of the prize "Big Book", "National Bestseller" and "Yasnaya Polyana". The author of the novels" Abode "," Sankya "," Pathologies", "Black Monkey", Cycles of Stories" Eight "," Sin "," boots full of hot vodka "and" seven lives", collections of journalism "Rings Peresvet" to us" , "Flying Burlaki", "Non -Learn Troubles", "Sighlight", "some will not fall into hell."
"Populovsky romance" - his first attempt not to journalistic, but an artistic understanding of the war years lived in the Donbass.
", three steps from the border troops, the Earth stood, where no laws were valid. People who lived here did not obey anyone from the outside. Moreover, from the inside they were also not really controlled by anyone. ”
"In the Donbass, he gathered quickly and unexpectedly for himself. I asked for a vacation at work, no one even asked Vostritsky’s plans for the next month.
In the Donbass Vostritsky rode with the ease of life, and also because the universe seemed to be tuck, twisted, moved on its side, but he did not like this.
The field commander is reasonable - unlike Lesenstsov, the local, Donbass, ”the historical type that existed before: he looked like a very good geography teacher, who suddenly, when the seasonal apocalypse, found the ability to kill. He tried to kill a reasonable way to work. "
The creak was Kazakh by nationality, but local. His name was a creak, because in childhood he not only engaged in boxing, but also went to a music school. "
"Mother arrived at the dead piston. She took away her son to bury her son in the village where he grew up - not far, thirty kilometers from their positions. The Buttercup was surprised: how such an unusual one, reading books and listening to the piston wild music, grew up in the village. The Buttercup thought that Piston was the city ".
"Donbass war drew him. Wrinkles, hand lines, steps of steps appeared. He was weathered, broke off. Now he knew the sound of his voice. In the middle of the face, the touched eyes bloomed with steppe dust.
When Vostritsky, after 4 Donetsk years, accidentally saw his previous photographs, he was almost muddied: as if he were naked, white and taken by surprise everywhere. "
"Leshentsov knew the commander for two weeks and one day. And these were amazing two weeks. For their sake, it was worth living the previous forty years. "
"The forester was an Estonian grandmother, the thin had a Tatar admixture, and only Abrek turned out to be Russian. About twenty years ago, having served in the army, Abrek fell in love with military affairs, traveled distant hot spots under the contract, and when the war began, he returned to the places where he grew up. "
"The detachment was commanded by an amazing man, the call sign - an artist. He could serve as a priest or live in a monastery: almost visible warmth came from him, he was incredibly affectionate and always carried sweets with him. The artist was born somewhere here, in the Donbass steppes, then moved to Russia - and when the war began, it reached back.
"Slavyansk came out, duck call sign. From Russian contractors. At the aunt, he rested in the village near Slavyansk - and, when it began, he immediately went into the militia. "
"They considered themselves to be the bearers of the truth voluminous and important so that their specific life against this background became almost weightless.
"Populovsky romance" - his first attempt not to journalistic, but an artistic understanding of the war years lived in the Donbass.
", three steps from the border troops, the Earth stood, where no laws were valid. People who lived here did not obey anyone from the outside. Moreover, from the inside they were also not really controlled by anyone. ”
"In the Donbass, he gathered quickly and unexpectedly for himself. I asked for a vacation at work, no one even asked Vostritsky’s plans for the next month.
In the Donbass Vostritsky rode with the ease of life, and also because the universe seemed to be tuck, twisted, moved on its side, but he did not like this.
The field commander is reasonable - unlike Lesenstsov, the local, Donbass, ”the historical type that existed before: he looked like a very good geography teacher, who suddenly, when the seasonal apocalypse, found the ability to kill. He tried to kill a reasonable way to work. "
The creak was Kazakh by nationality, but local. His name was a creak, because in childhood he not only engaged in boxing, but also went to a music school. "
"Mother arrived at the dead piston. She took away her son to bury her son in the village where he grew up - not far, thirty kilometers from their positions. The Buttercup was surprised: how such an unusual one, reading books and listening to the piston wild music, grew up in the village. The Buttercup thought that Piston was the city ".
"Donbass war drew him. Wrinkles, hand lines, steps of steps appeared. He was weathered, broke off. Now he knew the sound of his voice. In the middle of the face, the touched eyes bloomed with steppe dust.
When Vostritsky, after 4 Donetsk years, accidentally saw his previous photographs, he was almost muddied: as if he were naked, white and taken by surprise everywhere. "
"Leshentsov knew the commander for two weeks and one day. And these were amazing two weeks. For their sake, it was worth living the previous forty years. "
"The forester was an Estonian grandmother, the thin had a Tatar admixture, and only Abrek turned out to be Russian. About twenty years ago, having served in the army, Abrek fell in love with military affairs, traveled distant hot spots under the contract, and when the war began, he returned to the places where he grew up. "
"The detachment was commanded by an amazing man, the call sign - an artist. He could serve as a priest or live in a monastery: almost visible warmth came from him, he was incredibly affectionate and always carried sweets with him. The artist was born somewhere here, in the Donbass steppes, then moved to Russia - and when the war began, it reached back.
"Slavyansk came out, duck call sign. From Russian contractors. At the aunt, he rested in the village near Slavyansk - and, when it began, he immediately went into the militia. "
"They considered themselves to be the bearers of the truth voluminous and important so that their specific life against this background became almost weightless.
Author:
Author:Prilepin Zakhar
Cover:
Cover:Hard
Category:
- Category:Fiction
- Category:Modern Literature
- Category:Poetry & Literature
Publication language:
Publication Language:Russian
Paper:
Paper:Offset
Series:
Series: Zakhar Prilepin
Age restrictions:
Age restrictions:18+
ISBN:
ISBN:978-5-17-132703-3
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