Natalya Solzhenitsyna. The difficult personal life of Alexander Solzhenitsyn (15 photos). Yuri Polyakov, editor-in-chief of Literaturnaya Gazeta

Recently on the RTR channel there was a program by Sergei Miroshnichenko “Alexander Isaevich Solzhenitsyn. Life is not based on lies.” In it, the author tried to trace the writer’s entire life from childhood to the present day. Slightly changing the title of one of Solzhenitsyn’s famous articles, “Live not by lies,” the filmmakers presented to the audience that the writer’s entire life passes under this motto. But if you really look at it, the author himself lied, and Solzhenitsyn’s family did not refute this lie. The fact is that in the almost hour-long film, not a word was said about the first wife, Natalya Alekseevna Reshetovskaya. But Alexander Isaevich lived with her for about 30 years (!), and with her he became world famous and received the Nobel Prize.

“Will you, under all circumstances, love the person with whom you once decided to connect your life?” - these lines written by my ex-husband Alexander Isaevich Solzhenitsyn on the back of the photograph that he gave me on the day of our registration, April 27, 1940, still stir my soul.

In 1936, everything was just beginning for Sanya and me. Then I was Natasha, Natuska for him. We were both studying at Rostov University at the time, I was at the Faculty of Chemistry, and Sanya was at the Faculty of Physics and Mathematics. And our acquaintance was very unexpected (it happened in the first year): once I and my friends - Rayechka Karponosova, Kirill Simonyan and Koka (Kolya Vitkevich) - were standing in the lobby, and suddenly a man literally fell straight onto us from the top floor a large, tall and disheveled Walrus (this was the nickname the student Solzhenitsyn had). It’s strange, but for some reason everyone thought we knew each other. And to Sanya’s surprised question: “Who is this girl?” - one of the guys answered him: “Yes, this is Natasha, she’s like us.” That's how they became friends. On November 7, my mother and I decided to hold a party at home, and Sanya, among other guests, came to us. And before sitting down to the table, we had to wash our hands. And since there were no special amenities, they poured water on their hands from a mug. Sanya watered me and during this “procedure” he gave me my first compliment: he said that I play the piano very well. After this, Sanya made, so to speak, almost a confession, he dedicated poems to me, not simple poems - acrostics (when a word is formed from the first letters, in this case it was “Natasha Reshetovskaya”).

Perhaps fate itself gradually brought you closer together?

It is possible that this is so, because we lived close to each other, studied nearby, met often, studied in the same libraries. And the real declaration of love “happened” on a wonderful summer evening on July 2, 1938. It was already dark. The stars twinkled in the sky. Sanya and I walked around Theater Park - this was our favorite meeting place. We sat on a bench under the shade of white acacias and poplars, talking about something. And then suddenly Sanya somehow unexpectedly fell silent, then took a deep breath and... admitted to me that he loved me. I was both expecting and not expecting this explanation. I was just confused and didn’t know what to say... and I started crying. Having calmed down, I realized that Sanya was madly in love, but for my part I still didn’t understand - is this love or not? The day after his confession, he became somehow different: I didn’t see the familiar smile on his face, didn’t hear his laughter, he didn’t tell anything interesting, although, as always, he held my arm... And I immediately realized that I don’t need this kind of Sanya. And she ventured to write a note in which she admitted that I loved him too. Having received this message in the evening, he immediately ran to our house. That evening we kissed for the first time.

Breaking up after dating was getting harder and harder each time. And I decided to write him a letter in which I directly posed the question: “Shall we separate or unite?” And Sanya already had a written answer ready in advance; he also felt that it was time to get married. Although one pleasant-unpleasant circumstance still confused Sanya then - the possible appearance of a child. Sanya believed that if the baby appeared, then all his future plans would be ruined - after all, in addition to Rostov University, he also studied at the Moscow Institute of Philosophy, Literature and History.

And we still got married. But the day of our registration was an unusual day, unusual in the sense that it fell on April 27, 1940 (Sanya loved numbers that were multiples of nine), and besides, we hid the fact of our registration from everyone. The “hiding” was due to the fact that I didn’t want to upset my mothers with an untimely marriage - after all, we only had one university course left to complete. For the purpose of secrecy, Sanya even glued the page (so that it would not be visible) in my passport, where there was a stamp about marriage registration. And I didn’t change my last name so that my mother wouldn’t guess about everything. And then we had our honeymoon. We spent August in Tarusa. We rented a small hut on the outskirts and began to live. There was almost no furniture in it, only a table and a bench on the veranda. We slept like in a romantic movie - on hay, even the pillows were stuffed with hay.

Due to Sanya's malaria, being in the sun and swimming in the Oka was contraindicated for him. And we preferred to go into the forest, sat under the birch trees on the grass and read “War and Peace” by Leo Tolstoy and the poems of Yesenin, who was banned at that time.

Natalya Alekseevna, what kind of housewife were you?

You can imagine - I was a bad housewife. For me, cooking cabbage soup was a worse task than passing several state exams at the university!

What did you cook for your young husband for breakfast?

The simplest dish is scrambled eggs. The landlady from whom we rented a hut cooked us jacket potatoes for a whole week - it was, like eggs for breakfast, a standard dish for dinner. We had lunch in a small dining room nearby. On Sundays we went to the market and bought vegetables and fruits. Alexander Isaevich was unpretentious in food.

From Tarusa we sent letters to our family and friends, in which there were literally a few lines that we were husband and wife.

The honeymoon has passed. We took tickets for the Rostov - Moscow train. And so we were driving, driving, suddenly I was terribly hungry. Sanya immediately ran to the dining car to buy something. Finally he brought the sausages. But I had never eaten them, so I declared that this food was not good for me. So he did not accept any refusals: “Why don’t you eat this? I’ve been looking for them for so long!” So I had to reinforce myself with them almost as an order.

In Rostov-on-Don, mothers and friends met us with flowers. And at home they held a small banquet, a kind of wedding. After the banquet, they went to their homes - to their mothers - there was nowhere to live separately, and I didn’t want to embarrass my relatives. But at the beginning of the school year (in the fifth year), the trade union committee provided Sanya with a separate room in a two-room apartment, however, with a grumpy landlady...

In Rostov, a slightly belated wedding gift was waiting for us in the form of Sanina’s Stalin scholarship (it was quite large - 500 rubles), which he was awarded among the first as one of the best students. It happened that we took part in student amateur performances - I played the piano, and Sanya recited poetry - and for this we also received cash prizes. My husband’s time, then still a student, was scheduled not only by the hour, but also by the minute. He only studied in the library until ten in the evening; and I didn’t want to lag behind him and, in addition to various types of chemistry, I also managed to seriously study music and chess.

What was young Alexander Isaevich like?

He was very gentle, affectionate. There were moments that I still remember today with some special feeling. For example, Sanya, when we went to the cinema or theater, never stood in line at the wardrobe for a coat... he always managed to be the first in it. In general, he knew how to find a way out of any situation. True, sometimes in relation to me he showed his not quite, as it seems to me, best qualities. One day - we were in our fifth year at the time - I told him: “San, get me a book from the library.” But I was not enrolled in it. So he “attacked” me like this: “Shame on you, Natasha! You’re a fifth-year student!” Nikolai Vitkevich helped me out, who the next day took the book I needed from the same library.

What gifts did he give you?

Oh, in terms of gifts, Sanya was quite stingy: sometimes flowers - a bouquet of lilies of the valley on the day of registration, sometimes notes, books. And once he gave me a silver glass.

Life for us young people started out beautifully and went on calmly, if not for the war. The war separated us, and separated us for a long time. And in general, our whole life has turned into a continuous wait for meetings...

The war found Alexander Solzhenitsyn in Moscow. On June 22, 1941 at five o'clock in the morning he was at the Kazansky station. He came to the capital to take the next session at MIFLI. Sanya was released from the army for health reasons and at first, together with me, was assigned to the city of Morozovsk, Rostov region, where we taught. But he still managed to get to the front, although, unfortunately, as a private in a convoy. Then there was a business trip to Stalingrad, and he, taking advantage of this, entered the artillery school, which was located in Kostroma. After that there was the 2nd Belorussian Front, and he managed to summon me there, though... using forged documents. After all, I was not liable for military service, and no one could call me to the front through the military registration and enlistment office. At Solzhenitsyn’s request, the documents were drawn up by the division commander. The month that I spent with Sanya at the front was so fleeting that I was remembered only by the fact that in the dugout where we lived, every time the division commander came in, I had to stand at attention in front of my husband and still salute him . I, the only woman in the entire artillery division, felt uncomfortable, and the uncertainty of the situation was embarrassing... Suddenly, prospects for a scientific career in the rear unexpectedly opened up. All this led to my departure.

Letters came home from the front: from my husband, friends at the university. And then came what seemed like the most joyful day - Victory Day 1945. But he was not joyful, but rather anxious and even sad - there had been no news from Sanya since February 45th. And on the last postcard that was returned to me there was a note: “The addressee has left.” No matter how many times I tried to write to the unit, it was all useless. And only in the summer of the same 1945, Ilya Solomin made it clear in a letter that her husband had been arrested - no one would have dared to talk about it right then. And here’s the paradox - I was glad that he was arrested, I’m glad because “from there” only a few came back from the front.

10 years without Sanya seemed endless. Life was going on all around, a full, happy life: almost all my friends had families and children.

How were you able to bear it?

I had to hide even from my best friends (I was a graduate student at Moscow State University at the time) that my husband was a political prisoner. What helped you survive? From 1945 to 1949, Sanya was in the Moscow Gulag. Dating was allowed here. At first, I came to Sanya almost every week - always on Sunday, and sometimes in the middle of the week. Then he was “transferred” to the Ekibastuz camp. Here two letters a year were allowed and no visits... Of these two letters allowed, one never reached the addressee. Only monthly parcels were possible. It was difficult to feed my husband tastier food where there was only camp gruel, since life was not easy even in the wild. All products were distributed on cards. And I, receiving cards, for example, a herring, went to the market and exchanged it for bread or something else tasty for Sanya. And when she already worked in Ryazan as the head of the department of the Agricultural Institute, then, in order not to attract attention to her recipient, she sent the lion’s share of the assistant professor’s salary to Aunt Nina in Rostov, and she meticulously assembled parcels for Solzhenitsyn with this money. In response to the parcels, he wrote to me: “You saved my life and even more than my life.”

When I turned 33, I gave up - I decided not to wait for my husband and connected my life with my colleague, Vsevolod Somov. Sanya often wrote to me that complete uncertainty awaited me and him: he did not know what period of time was “assigned” to him, and he did not know whether he would return or not. He gave me “freedom” more than once. Our marriage with Somov was not officially registered, since the marriage with Solzhenitsyn was not dissolved. Vsevolod Sergeevich, remaining a widower, raised two sons. This man was close to me in spirit, and the boys, especially the eldest Seryozha, were drawn to me. And the younger Boris even called him mom. I certainly wanted to realize myself both as a woman and as a mother. And when I told my husband that I “married” Somov, he took it for granted.

Were you happy with Somov?

Of course there was. We lived together for almost five years. Perhaps we would have lived with him, as they say, until the end of time, but... I met my husband again - I met him in order to lose him, to lose him forever...

I call our second reunion with Solzhenitsyn “a quiet life.” It seemed to me then that love had returned again, that my old Sanya had returned. Everything came true, as it was predicted for me: when Sanya was in exile, and there was complete ignorance and confusion in my soul (I even lost my voice - I cried so much), I decided to go tell my fortune. Ira Arsenyeva’s mother took me to a fortune teller - she laid out the cards, and then looked at my hand and said that Sanya was alive and that the further course of events would depend only on me...

I completely dissolved in Solzhenitsyn, in his work - I was his typist, secretary, who could retype the volume of his manuscripts that was needed overnight, and only then was his wife, whom he promised to love and cherish, even when she was completely gone. old.

Didn't you keep your word?

Yes, his words did not match his deeds. For a whole year, and maybe a little more, Sanya hid his relationship with Natalya Svetlova from me, and at the same time he allowed me to leave work. And when he went to the North, he took her with him. He didn’t take me there under the pretext that he had only one sleeping bag and that I might catch a cold... Soon a child “loomed” on the horizon, a child from the second Natalya. It was a betrayal. And then there was so much mental suffering - the divorce alone took three endless years. I didn't give it to him at first. And only at the third trial in Ryazan we were divorced. The very next day after the divorce, I went to our dacha in Borzovka, not far from Naro-Fominsk. There... she buried her love.

How were they buried?

I brought a photograph of Sanin to Borzovka. I went into the house, our once common abode, where kindness, faith, hope and love always reigned... She took a plastic bag from the table, put a photograph in it and went to her corner, to her bench under the walnut tree, sat down on it , and then... then a little further away from her I dug a kind of grave for Sanya’s favorite photograph. She sprinkled it with earth, covered the edges with carnations, and from the leaves of some grass she laid out the date of our separation and divorce - July 22, 1972. I didn’t say anything to Sanya about this. Some time passed, he arrived at the dacha, began to mow the grass, and suddenly the scythe “found” the grave. He asked me what it was. I answered. How he flared up then: “How can you make a grave for a living person?!” ...For all my suffering, I even tried to poison myself - I took 18 sleeping pills. But God saved life.

Natalya Alekseevna, how did you live afterwards?

You know, I divide my whole life into two periods - with him and after him. But both then and now, strange as it may seem, I live for him. I remember and think about my San. And how can I not remember him if every minute of my life is a reminder of him: his new books are published, old ones are republished, television and radio report on what is happening in his life. But to this day he cannot cross the psychological barrier and come to me and look me directly in the eyes. True, three and a half years ago there was a call and a belated Merry Christmas. And a month after the call, through his second wife Natalya Dmitrievna, he congratulated me on my anniversary. She brought a huge basket of roses, a beautiful postcard and a just published book of youthful poems by Alexander Isaevich, called “Rubing Your Eyes”, with the inscription: “Natasha - for your 80th birthday. Something from the old, memorable. Sanya. 26. 2.99". We must pay tribute to Natalya Dmitrievna in the fact that she was still able to overcome something in herself and ask me for forgiveness for the pain she caused... Honestly, at first it was hard for me to hear and communicate with Natalya Dmitrievna, but this that was when I was still healthy. Now I'm sick and I have nowhere to go. That’s why I accepted the help of Natalya Dmitrievna Solzhenitsyna, who fully covered the costs associated with my care and treatment. (Natalya Alekseevna has been almost bedridden for more than a year now, she sometimes gets up with the help of a walker - she has a fracture of the femoral neck. - M. T.).

Natalya Alekseevna, do you still love your ex-husband?

This may seem strange and even implausible to some, but, alas, I still love him. And at the same time, the thought haunts me: will I really never see him again?

Love Stories:

Alexander Solzhenitsyn and two Natalias.

Two lives, two loves

Alexander Solzhenitsyn

The life of the writer and public figure was brightened by two women. With one he knew the happiness of his first love, and the second became his assistant, friend, and mother of his children. Two loves are like two lives.

Natalya Reshetovskaya

Photo of the newlyweds Solzhenitsyn and Reshetovskaya. Rostov-on-Don, April 27, 1940

They were students at Rostov University. Alexander Solzhenitsyn studied at the Faculty of Physics and Technology, and Natalya Reshetovskaya studied at the Faculty of Chemistry. She and her friends were standing in the university lobby when tall, big and shaggy Sanya, whom his friends nicknamed the Walrus, literally rolled down the stairs. That's how they first met. And then there was a party at Natasha’s house, where Solzhenitsyn was invited. After this evening, Alexander wrote an acrostic poem for his Natalia. It was almost a confession; at first a strong friendship began between the young people, and later deeper feelings arose.

Friends of youth: A. Solzhenitsyn, K. Simonyan, N. Reshetovskaya, N. Vitkevich, L. Ezherets. May 1941

When Alexander confessed his love to her, she simply cried without answering. And only a few days later, having understood herself, Natalya wrote to him that she loved him too. They signed secretly on April 27, 1940. And they went together on a honeymoon to Tarusa. They were happy in their youthful, bright love. Only the young husband did not want children. He had far-reaching plans; children could interfere with their implementation. Natalya didn't mind. It seemed like my whole life lay ahead. Happy, endless. And a year later the war came.

Love and separation

Solzhenitsyn during the war years

From the very beginning of the war, Alexander Solzhenitsyn strove to go to the front. But due to health reasons, he was refused, and was sent to work as a teacher in Morozovsk, Rostov region. From there he was nevertheless drafted into the army in October 1941. And already in April 1942, Alexander Isaevich achieved an assignment to an artillery school, after graduating from which he finally ended up in the active army and became the commander of a sound reconnaissance battery.

Meeting of spouses at the front. 1943

And then he found an opportunity to call Natalya to him. They spent a whole month together, an almost unimaginable luxury during wartime. True, Natalya was somewhat burdened by her uncertain position in the division, therefore, as soon as such an opportunity presented itself, she went to the rear to engage in scientific activities.

Alexander Solzhenitsyn in a quilted jacket with camp numbers

In February 1945, letters stopped coming from him. Later, Natalya Reshetovskaya finds out: her husband was arrested for imprudent criticism of Joseph Stalin’s policies in correspondence with a friend.

Natalya found out where her husband was and began to help him to the best of her ability. She regularly sent parcels to him in places of detention, even when it was not easy for herself. It was impossible to admit to anyone that the spouse was a political prisoner. Alexander Solzhenitsyn will say later that Natalya saved his life in prison.

Divorce and life from scratch

A. Solzhenitsyn and N. Reshetovskaya, Ryazan, 1958

Alexander Solzhenitsyn and Natalya Reshetovskaya realized that their separation might never end. The imprisonment could be indefinite. Therefore, he repeatedly suggested that Natalya arrange her life and not wait for his return.

And Natalya decided to have a relationship with her colleague, a widower who had two wonderful sons. By this time it was already known that due to illness Natasha would not have her own children. And in 1948, she filed for divorce from her first husband in absentia.

A. Solzhenitsyn and N. Reshetovskaya in Sologch. 1963

She lived with another man for five years, but when in 1956 Alexander Isaevich returned from prison and offered to start life over, she agreed. They remarried on February 2, 1957. Later, both of them admit that they made a mistake by trying to enter the same river a second time.

Natalya completely devoted herself to her husband. She diligently helped him in everything, fulfilled all his wishes. But her Sanya was moving away from her more and more.

Natalia Svetlova

He met Natalia Svetlova in 1968. She helped him reprint manuscripts. By the time they met, Alexander Solzhenitsyn had become a famous, and soon disgraced, writer.

He worked tirelessly and needed help. Natalya, a 29-year-old graduate student at Moscow State University, was almost ideal for the role of assistant. She was also very efficient, energetic, and also shared the views of Alexander Isaevich.

Alexander Solzhenitsyn and Natalia Svetlova

According to the writer, from the moment he put his hands on her shoulders, their lives were intertwined and spinning. He called her Alya, she was destined to become his muse and guiding star.

Dramatic divorce

Alexander Solzhenitsyn

But for another two years he tossed between two women. On one side was Natasha, whom he once loved very much. On the other, Alya, without whom he could not imagine his future life. The issue was resolved when Natalia informed him that she was expecting a child. Only then did he finally talk to his wife about divorce.

Alexander Solzhenitsyn and Natalia Svetlova with their first-born Ermolai

But Natalya did not want to let her husband go. She delayed the matter in every possible way, trying with all her might to keep her husband and not give him a divorce. According to rumors, she even wrote denunciations against him to the KGB.

This painful process lasted three whole years, completely exhausting all participants in the love drama. Natalya Reshetovskaya tried to take her own life, but doctors managed to save her. By the time she gave her consent to the divorce, Solzhenitsyn and Natalia Svetlova already had two sons growing up, and they were expecting the birth of a third child.

New family

Alexander Isaevich with his sons in the garden of their Vermont house

Solzhenitsyn lived with Natalia Dmitrievna until the end of his days. After his Soviet citizenship was revoked in February 1974, he was expelled from the country. After six weeks, the wife and children were allowed to join her husband. They lived in exile for 20 long years.

Natalya Dmitrievna and Natalya Alekseevna

Natalya Reshetovskaya wrote six books of memoirs about her ex-husband. Many things described in her memoirs deeply offended the writer. Even after his return to his homeland, Solzhenitsyn refused to meet his first wife, but until the end of his days he helped her financially through Natalia Dmitrievna.

Big family

The writer's widow, trying to describe her life with Alexander Isaevich, says that they simply lived together, worked together, raised children. They were just happy.Alexander Solzhenitsyn was happy in love, which is not possible for everyone.

The widow of Alexander Solzhenitsyn, Natalia Dmitrievna, published an open letter on the pages of the Rossiyskaya Gazeta to Yuri Polyakov, the editor-in-chief of the Literaturnaya Gazeta - where, in turn, his column had previously appeared (in the “Point of View” section). Polyakov assessed Solzhenitsyn’s place in history unequivocally:

“...the current “advance” pre-anniversary excitement in connection with the approaching centenary of A.I. Solzhenitsyn, in my opinion, looks somewhat inappropriate. I will not discuss the literary and artistic merits of his creations, but I am forced to note: Solzhenitsyn not only left the Soviet Union at one time (and the USSR, whether we like it or not, is essentially one of the political versions of historical Russia), but actually called on the Americans to start against him the war. No one is suggesting that Solzhenitsyn should be deleted from the list of outstanding compatriots, but he clearly should not be made into a cult figure. So that cultural figures of the younger generation do not make deliberately vicious conclusions for themselves. Otherwise, the authorities will always see the potential for another “swamp”.

Natalia Solzhenitsyna, widow of Alexander Solzhenitsyn:(published in Rossiyskaya Gazeta)

Outraged by the dishonest slander against A.I. Solzhenitsyn, published by you on the portal of the newspaper “Culture” on September 20, 2014: “Solzhenitsyn not only left the Soviet Union at one time... essentially historical Russia, but actually called on the Americans to start a war against him.”

You cannot help but know that in February 1974, Solzhenitsyn was arrested, deprived of citizenship and deported from the country under escort. Citizens of the USSR were informed about this by TASS in the central press. If, knowing this, you print the above words, it means you are deliberately lying. If you don’t know this well-known (at least in the history of literature of the 20th century) fact, then it’s strange how you head the Literaturnaya Gazeta. And, being in this position, it is unworthy to repeat the slander about calls for war, concocted against Solzhenitsyn in deep Soviet times by the 5th KGB department for combating dissent. On the contrary, while in exile, Solzhenitsyn fell out of favor with the American press for many years precisely because he defended historical Russia. Yes, he believed that the Bolsheviks had distorted its face, and stubbornly urged not to attribute to the Russian people the cruel features of the communist practice of Lenin-Stalin. I have no doubt that the younger generation will figure out what is considered true, what is true patriotism and who are its real bearers.

Natalia Solzhenitsyna

P.S. The original letter was sent to the editor of the Kultura newspaper yesterday.
Yuri Polyakov’s response to Natalia Solzhenitsyna was published by the same Rossiyskaya Gazeta, prefacing the text with an editorial remark: “From the editor. We could not help but give the floor to Yuri Polyakov, editor-in-chief of Literaturnaya Gazeta, to clarify our position. We will not hide that we were extremely surprised and upset by both the essence of the letter and its form. We hope our readers will draw accurate conclusions themselves.”

Yuri Polyakov, editor-in-chief of Literaturnaya Gazeta:

Dear Natalia Dmitrievna!

I understand your anger. When you sculpt a monument to a dear person, you want his best features to be cast in bronze. However, your late husband, the outstanding Russian writer Alexander Isaevich Solzhenitsyn, was a complex, passionate and contradictory figure. His fierce dislike for the Soviet version of our statehood, partly justified by his personal drama, is well known, and here I would rather believe the 5th Directorate of the KGB, which I would not dare to nightmare in the current geopolitical reality. Solzhenitsyn’s persistent subjectivity, say, on the question of the authorship of “Quiet Don” is also no secret to anyone. I am also convinced that it is impossible to include in the school curriculum an “artistic research experience” called “The Gulag Archipelago,” which you insisted on at the top. The homeric assessments of the most difficult era of Lenin - Stalin, placed in this book, seriously diverge from the data of historical science and common sense. A one-sided understanding of the past fosters hatred of one’s own country and gives rise to a civil swamp. But the truly artistic “One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich” should certainly be read by every high school student.

It is quite possible that I am not worthy to head the Literary Gazette, but it was your humble servant who published on the pages of LG Solzhenitsyn’s angry rebuke to the “scammers” who attributed his collaboration with the same KGB. By the way, in your legitimate impulse to ennoble the memory of your husband, you tore out only a fragment of my reasoning. And I said that I don’t understand why the 100th anniversaries of the largest Russian writers who did not quarrel so much with the Soviet regime (Leonov, Sholokhov, Tvardovsky) were celebrated very modestly in comparison with the plans for celebrating the upcoming anniversary of the author of “The Red Wheel”. It was precisely for this reason that I declined the offered honor of joining the anniversary committee. In any case, I am sorry that I upset you, because your active devotion to the spiritual, political and literary behests of A.I. Solzhenitsyn deserves admiration and imitation.

***
The 100th anniversary of the birth of Alexander Solzhenitsyn will be celebrated in 2018.

Natalya Dmitrievna Solzhenitsyna (Svetlova) is a public figure in Russia, she was born on July 22, 1939 in Moscow. The woman is also an editor and assistant to her now deceased husband, writer Alexander Solzhenitsyn. In 1974, she created the Russian Fund for Assistance to the Persecuted and Their Relatives in Zurich. In 1992, this organization moved its activities to Moscow. In Russia it is known as the Solzhenitsyn Foundation. Her name often remained in the shadows because of her famous husband, but Natalya herself achieved a lot in her life. In 2015, she was awarded the Order of Merit for the Fatherland, fourth degree.

Childhood and family

Natasha Svetlova was born into a family of descendants of Stavropol peasants. Her father, Dmitry Ivanovich Velikorodny, was a graduate student in the literary department of the Institute of Red Professorships in Moscow. Two years after the birth of his daughter, he went to war and went missing near Smolensk. The girl’s mother, Ekaterina Ferdinandovna, graduated from the Moscow Aviation Institute.

Natalya's grandfather, Ferdinand Yuryevich, was a member of the Socialist Revolutionary Party. Later he worked for the newspaper Izvestia. For his views, he was arrested before his granddaughter was born and died in a camp.

In 1949, Catherine married again. Her chosen one was David Jacques, an economist and author of articles on statistical accounting. He was also the brother of the famous Soviet poet Veniamin Jacques.

Education and first marriage

After graduating from school, Natalya became a student at the Faculty of Mechanics and Mathematics at a state university. Later she graduated from graduate school and got a job in the laboratory of mathematical statistics. One of her colleagues became her future husband.

The girl’s first official husband was Andrei Nikolaevich Tyurin. He was a famous mathematician; the couple had a son, Dmitry, in 1962. He died in 1994, but left behind a daughter.

Fateful acquaintance

In August 1968, the girl met Alexander Solzhenitsyn. Since then, they have never been apart for long, until the death of the writer. Natalya became his secretary, editor and closest assistant. She supported her lover in everything and helped compile collections of essays. In his interviews, Alexander admitted with a smile that he could not have done anything without this woman. Amazingly, she managed to support and motivate her closest person.

The lovers entered into an official marriage only in 1973. At that time they already had three sons - Ermolai, Ignat and Stepan. When Solzhenitsyn was sent to the West, his wife immediately followed him, taking her children and mother with her. In October 1976, a decree was issued depriving the entire family of USSR citizenship. Only in 1990 was it canceled and the woman was able to return to her homeland. In 1994, she and her husband came to Russia forever.

In 2007, edited by Natalya, a collection of her husband’s best works was published in 30 volumes. In July 2009, she met with Russian President Vladimir Putin to discuss teaching the work of Alexander Solzhenitsyn in public schools. At that time, the writer had already died.

The woman is also a member of the Board of Trustees, responsible for the revival of the Solovetsky Monastery. She is also a member of the Volnoye Delo council, which supports all social innovations. Solzhenitsyn regularly attends meetings of the organization dedicated to perpetuating the memory of victims of political repression.

It is obvious that this woman has the strongest character. Even after the death of her beloved husband, she did not become despondent, but continued his work with all her might. Natalya Dmitrievna does not allow herself to rest, because there are so many people in the world who need her help.

Natalia Solzhenitsyna

Solzhenitsyn's house

The conversation was conducted by Yuri Kulikov, Marina Zavada

On Saturday, Alexander Solzhenitsyn would have turned 92. He spent the last thirteen years in Trinity-Lykovo. Here, on the outskirts of Moscow, the writer for the first time in his wandering life found a home in his homeland in the full sense of the word. How did Alexander Isaevich live here? Why is the house orphaned in 2008 different from the house without Solzhenitsyn?

On the eve of the writer’s birthday, Izvestia columnists Marina Zavada and Yuri Kulikov visited Natalya Dmitrievna Solzhenitsyna.

News: According to the eternal Russian sloppiness, the house in Trinity-Lykovo, we know, was difficult to build. It turned out that the roof was leaking, they forgot to make ventilation ducts in the walls... Was Alexander Isaevich annoyed by this unnecessary gimmick? Did you involve him in the “process” at least as an expert who mastered the skills of a mason, painter, and parquet floorer in the Gulag?

Natalya Solzhenitsyna: God forbid. I would feel sorry for his time on this. Yes, we thought: they would manage without us; they were professionals. Another question is that the time when we returned to Russia was such a deception. It’s not that the house took a long time to build, it’s just that it was built poorly. The roof leaked in any thaw or rain. For three years in a row, it was blocked off every summer. And how much you suffered with waterproofing! It is very difficult to deal with dampness in a finished house. We did our best to save the basement, intended for storing books and archives, from it. How did Alexander Isaevich feel about all this? Of course, he was annoyed by noise, knocking, and trampling under the windows. But in his life he had to work in such conditions that he learned not to complain about interference. Only from time to time I asked: when will it end?

In the early winter twilight, on the alley leading to the house, the marvelous crowns of tall pines were still visible, about which Solzhenitsyn once remarked with pleasure: in Russia, to see them, you definitely have to lift your head. Natalya Dmitrievna was waiting for us on the brightly lit porch, smart and cheerful as always. She led me into the living room with a large portrait of Alexander Isaevich on the fireplace. Something about this understatedly stylish semicircular living room was unusual. They didn’t realize right away: there were no curtains on the huge windows. Massive wooden frames served as a frame for the trees looking into the room.

Solzhenitsyn: We don't have curtains anywhere. Only in the guest room. It’s somehow unnatural to fence yourself off from the forest with curtains.

AND: But at night darkness looks through the windows...

Solzhenitsyn: And wonderful. You dissolve in the world. We are part of all this.

AND: Alexander Isaevich probably had a great time writing at such a window.

Solzhenitsyn: Yes, he reveled in Central Russian nature. I always thought that he was unlucky to have been born in the south, in a treeless area. The Trinity-Lykov pines delighted him. And a larch under the window.

Alexander Isaevich worked well at this window. Trinity-Lykovo.

AND: You, a native Muscovite, also became a “peasanka” under the influence of your husband?

Solzhenitsyn: No, I love the city. But, firstly, Trinity-Lykovo is not completely out of the way, and secondly, it is impossible to tear yourself away from an archive of this size and transport it somewhere. I'm chained to him. Look: there are bookshelves everywhere, there are also boxes in the corridor, and here I have papers on the tables, bags, briefcases - and that’s just a small part. Such an endless train station: wherever I go - to publishing houses, to the Foundation - I always take some manuscripts and books with me. I'll bring back the others.

AND: The situation is the least reminiscent of a train station. A lived-in house with great taste.

Solzhenitsyn: In any case, convenient. We needed a large family to live in one half, and everyone could talk in a full voice, without worrying about disturbing Alexander Isaevich. And the other half is working. They built a house from two wings located at an angle; the sound does not fly at an angle. This is a well-known architectural technique.

AND: Did you somehow celebrate moving here, housewarming?

Solzhenitsyn: What housewarming?! We were endlessly glad that we returned to Russia, yes. What about the house? It didn’t happen that he opened the door - everything is ready, furnished, start living. When you come in here, there are boxes and boxes of books. Yeah, we need to arrange them. But there are no shelves. You need to measure the walls, order... And there are no dishes. We need to quickly buy something for the first time. I was running back and forth. And yet the main work did not stop. We worked and settled in at the same time. There have been three such huge moves in my life: first to Europe, then to America, and finally here. Two of them are with small children. That's enough for my lifetime, I won't do it again. If life doesn't force you. Moreover, I have no special taste for such things. I deal with them with all my hands, as Sanya said. That is, in the hours or minutes remaining from the main task.

AND: Solzhenitsyn usually celebrated “prisoner’s day” on February 9. The fatal number was when he was arrested in 1945. He measured out the meager bread ration, cooked gruel and porridge in water. He noted with humor that by the evening he got into character so much that he collected crumbs in his mouth and licked the bowl. Why was this ritual needed, a material reminder of what Alexander Isaevich already remembered hourly?

Solzhenitsyn: It is impossible to remember the suffering of the body every hour. If you are full, the physical sensation of hunger is forgotten. The memory is forgetful, the body is fuzzy... But if you go hungry for a day, a familiar fear appears: suddenly there will be no more food. The psychological state erased by years of normal life returns. Alexander Isaevich said that from time to time it is worth reminding yourself of the suffering of the flesh. About her vulnerability. In principle, he believed that one should not pamper one’s flesh too much, because this makes a person dependent. Let's say I smoked for quite a long time. Sanya persuaded: “Stop smoking. You can’t do anything (except the inevitable) that you become dependent on. They'll arrest you - in the early 70s, arrest was absolutely real - but you can't live without cigarettes. And your investigator will play on this.”

AND: Did you listen?

Solzhenitsyn:(laughs) No, his admonitions had no effect. I quit smoking, but for a different reason and at a different time.

We are already on the second floor - in Alexander Isaevich’s office, which consists of two spacious adjacent rooms. There is also a tiny kitchenette where Natalya Dmitrievna warmed up her husband’s food.

AND: Didn't Alexander Isaevich come down for lunch?

Solzhenitsyn: For the last five years he had been ill and rarely came down to the common table. Otherwise we always had lunch together. Lunches were late: around six o'clock. The kitchen upstairs was designed so that Alexander Isaevich would not be distracted by anything in the first half of the day. He got up no later than seven. I drank coffee and sat down to write. In the afternoon I warmed up his lunch. The day was divided into work of different nature and intensity. In the morning he wrote. The second half of the day is cumulative: I read, made notes, thought about the material, not necessarily for tomorrow - in advance. To go downstairs before lunch means to be distracted willy-nilly. Even a short everyday conversation broke my concentration. Alexander Isaevich was unpretentious in food, and he did not care what to wear. Two things were truly important to him: light and silence. Silence especially. In Vermont, like many in America, we had a basketball hoop hanging on the wall of our garage. Until three o'clock in the afternoon - weekends are not weekends, vacations are not vacations - the boys did not dare to hit the ball, knowing that dad was working. True, it seems to me that the ban was in effect until one o’clock, but Ignat in some interview claimed that it was until three. In any case, in the morning hours, no one barked except the dog (laughs).

Ignat Solzhenitsyn, the famous pianist and chief conductor of the Philadelphia Chamber Orchestra, was at that moment squatting near the flight of stairs on the second floor and pressing the keyboard not of a piano, but of a laptop, setting up an internal computer network in the house. However, Natalya Dmitrievna, who had nothing against the very idea that all family members: she, and Stepan, and Ermolai, and Ignat, who often visits from New York, and daughters-in-law, could, without leaving their rooms, like in the office, exchange messages, whispered something reproachfully to her son. She explained to us:

One of these days he will have two concerts in St. Petersburg. Our whole family will fly there. Ignat will both solo on the piano and conduct the Mariinsky Theater Symphony Orchestra. Jokes aside: the Gergiev Orchestra! I'm terribly worried, and he's been fiddling with these computers for hours.

With a fleeting remark about Ignat’s ill-timed computer passion, the conversation about children is settled for the time being. In Alexander Isaevich’s office we talk about the owner’s habits and attachment to the things that inhabited his territory.

Solzhenitsyn: Sanya really loved this old jacket with buttons,” Natalya Dmitrievna smoothes out the folds of the gray knitted jacket hanging on the back of the chair. He notices a small hole and, mechanically continuing to stroke, thinks out loud: - When did it appear? We need to sew it up... - And after a pause: - It’s cool here in winter. In his youth, Sanya liked the cold, he was even nicknamed “the walrus” - he never wore a coat or a hat. And with age I began to freeze.

While he could, Alexander Isaevich wrote, standing behind this plywood pulpit, knocked together to suit his height. You see, it's foldable. He took it under his arm and carried it. Our department is a traveler: she has traveled around Russia, been to Zurich, and been to Vermont. And the antique desk is from St. Petersburg. It was given to Sanya in 1969 or 1970. First it stood in a garden house in Rozhdestvo, then in ours on Tverskaya. When Alexander Isaevich was expelled in 1974 and we went after him, I took the table with me. He returned with us from exile. In another room there are two large simple tables: the first is on wheels, the second is on neat trestles. Easy to move. They were made for us in Vermont. Not even joiners, but carpenters. Different tables for different jobs. There is no need to constantly rearrange stacks of books and papers.

On the day of his departure, Alexander Isaevich spent the entire morning in his office, working as usual. Sheets of the latest manuscript, glasses, pencils, pens... I try not to touch anything here.

AND: It has become common place to talk about Alexander Isaevich’s incredible performance. As well as about his constant annoyance with himself if he spent time not on writing. And yet, what was he like during that “personal time” that intruded into the compressed schedule, for which he did not reproach himself?

Solzhenitsyn: We did not have a division: this is work, and this is “personal”. Both Sanya and I, in different ways, but endlessly loved work and never lived by the principle: we procrastinated the day, closed the daddy, now we went to rest. We didn’t organize any special gatherings: let’s get together, talk about this and that. There were a lot of family conversations, but usually they arose somehow naturally, most often during meals. In general, all of us in the family eat quickly. Well, just physically fast. If there was an interesting or important conversation at dinner, it continued as long as the interest did not dry out. And if not, everyone immediately ran back to their activities. Alexander Isaevich could not stand wasting time, he simply got sick from it. If there is nothing to talk about, then there is nothing to talk about. This extended to guests as well. I could well say: forgive me, dears, I’ll go, I have a difficult part ahead of me tomorrow morning. He got up and left. But on Saturdays in Vermont, the kids didn't go to school, so we had long breakfasts.

“Personal time,” if you like, can also include our discussions with Sanya about radio news and the current press. We “divided” newspapers and magazines, and then retold the most important things to each other. Everything revolved around returning to Russia. The family (including children) lived in hope that this would happen someday. At times, hope faded. We have. Sanya - never.

Already in the 80s, in the evenings, Alexander Isaevich began to read what he did not need directly for work. Let's say, from one to five - the reading necessary for the "Red Wheel", and after lunch I took on books that I wanted to re-read or had not read before. I made notes along the way. From this the “Literary Collection” developed - essays about writers, quite unusual, since writers often avoid talking about writers or respond wryly. And here, on the contrary, with love and capture.

AND: Did Alexander Isaevich rest during the day?

Solzhenitsyn: Hardly ever. Although he had big problems with sleep. He fell asleep, but soon woke up. The fear that in the morning I would be out of shape and the day would be lost kept me from falling asleep again. Occasionally he could lie down during the day. Even in the full years of strength, Sanya experienced such a state when her brain seemed to be exhausted from fatigue. A kind of stupor set in. If I managed to forget myself for ten to fifteen minutes, I would get up completely rejuvenated.

AND: Soon after meeting, you stunned Solzhenitsyn with your tirelessness, prompting an almost compassionate remark: “Aren’t you pushing too hard? Don't overload yourself." Two workaholics. Did this similarity create harmony in the family or was the house lacking a little laziness?

Solzhenitsyn: Well, I do not know. I think it's okay. In any case, Alexander Isaevich was okay with the idea that I should never be encouraged to work, that I would do it myself. He liked it. Then, don’t forget that One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich was published in 1962. The man was forty-three years old when he published his first book! Sanya was in a very, very hurry. I didn't expect to live this long. He went through terrible cancer, metastases under the arms and throughout the abdomen. One tumor, the size of a fist, remained in a kind of limestone bunker after irradiation. Sanya always proceeded from the fact that perhaps there was little time left. So yes, I didn’t want to waste it. This does not mean that he wrote frantically. On the contrary, Alexander Isaevich was never in a hurry, did not rush to the end. He began to rush only when he finished the book. He gave it to me to read, waited for a review, then a reprint. Then (laughs) it seemed to him that everything should be ready tomorrow.

AND: And why are you reading slowly...

Solzhenitsyn: Yes Yes. He didn’t reproach, but he was really looking forward to it and made you feel it. As for laziness, we both (although I don’t remember a single direct statement from Alexander Isaevich on this matter) considered it disgusting. They agreed that the less there is in the family, the better. Sanya worked with the children every day, always giving a lesson in mathematics, physics, or astronomy for an hour a day. I studied Russian with them and tried to get the boys to learn a poem a day. They knew hundreds of poems. When guests arrived, we organized concerts in their honor. There was music and poetry. My father was always present at these concerts.

AND: Isn't it too much - a verse every day?

Solzhenitsyn: Not too much. Memory can be stretched, just as a glutton stretches his stomach. And memory is almost the only thing we could give to children. Memory and ability to work with a book, with words. Your craft. Alexander Isaevich liked to repeat: “The craft is not easy to do.” We never knew what our life would turn into, whether it would be blown up or not, who would die, when and how... And we were in a hurry to convey to our children what we could. I remember Vermonters fondly. They themselves decided that we needed to be protected from alien tramplers. In a local shop there was a touching sign: “We are not showing the way to the Solzhenitsyns.”

Our children, fortunately, grew up to be hardworking. Father did not read sermons to them, and I more than once spoke out loud about my aversion to laziness. When the guys were already teenagers, I told them, as if jokingly, that a beloved woman should be able to forgive all sorts of shortcomings, but there is nothing worse than an angry and lazy woman. Don't marry someone like that. (And to demand more is to be the old woman from “The Tale of the Fisherman and the Fish.”) They obeyed. They didn’t marry people like that (laughs). I'm happy with all my daughters-in-law.

News: Despite the fact that Alexander Isaevich had a lot of ill-wishers, there were even more who quickly fell under his charm. You too. In your case, the point is not only in his ideas, books, but also in male charisma, apparently?

Natalya Solzhenitsyna: What can I say, Sanya attracted me like a magnet. For me he remained attractive until the last day. Many felt his charm. He was somehow organically gallant and attentive to women. Irina Alekseevna Ilovaiskaya, who was our secretary in Cavendish for several years, said that when she came to Alexander Isaevich (and it was chilly in his Vermont office), he carefully threw a jacket over her shoulders: “It drove me crazy how he did it with movement.” It seems to me that Sanya’s face was special. And the further, the more. He had the kind of face that you wanted to look at and look at, it was difficult to tear yourself away.

While working, Sanya was taciturn and very focused. He looked strict towards everyone who tried to stop him. Yes, I didn’t allow this. And she didn’t interfere.

AND: He's lucky to have you.

Solzhenitsyn: And I was lucky with him. We are lucky to have each other. This is true. When Sanya was not in a tense, compressed state, he became open, soft, and infinitely sweet. Extremely delicate. He smiled sunnyly. And he laughed very contagiously. He was an excellent storyteller. The boys now remember much of what their father talked about at the table. My sons have this stuck in their memory; they are sometimes surprised: “How come you don’t remember?”

There were many festive feasts with Alexander Isaevich (contrary, it seems to me, to your impression). We celebrated all the children's birthdays (four boys, after all!), and my mother's birthday. Sanya loved her very much. Plus Christmas, Easter, visits from friends - Nikita and Masha Struve, Slava Rostropovich, who had a close friendship with Sanya, another close family: And we always had a cheerful, tasty, beautiful table. My mother and I cooked. To this day I make Easter cakes, Easter cakes, and bake tiny puff pastries. Let's finish the interview - let's go have tea with Sanya's favorite cake. He had a cupcake that he couldn’t live without (laughs). I still bake it now, as if for Sanya.

Mom helped with everything. She was wonderful, also the happiness of my life. "Chief engineer" of our house. She had good hands - she repaired lamps, irons, locks, toys. She drew well. When cooking, she always had cabbage soup and cutlets. Sanya joked: “We can’t allow us to return to Russia and the children don’t know what cabbage soup is.” This was perceived with a smile - as an abstract figure of speech. Will we come back? But we're back. And the children knew what cabbage soup was...

By the way, Sanya had an inexhaustible sense of humor. At the same time, he often complained that he lacked humor in his own books and considered this a shortcoming.

AND: Even in the tragic “Archipelago” there are enough witty passages...

Solzhenitsyn: I think so too. Everywhere... However, he criticized himself harshly.

AND: In what form did Alexander Isaevich’s dissatisfaction and bad mood manifest itself?

Solzhenitsyn: He fell silent. If he was dissatisfied, if it seemed to him that I was to blame for something or was doing something wrong, then he simply fell silent, sometimes for a long time. He didn't mean to offend with words. Alexander Isaevich was not a reproachful person. He was self-reproachful. I reproached myself terribly when I thought I had made a mistake. She tormented him. With age, he became softer towards others, but became harsher towards himself. Mentally scrolling through life, he bitterly condemned himself. In particular, for not being attentive enough to his mother. This pain has lived in him for the last twenty years.

AND: Did your husband's silence infuriate you?

Solzhenitsyn: I tried to act as if nothing had happened. But if she saw the futility, she stopped trying and also fell silent.

AND: How long could you do this?

Solzhenitsyn: She could. But less than him. Usually the disagreement continued until the first urgent matter that had to be discussed. This is where everything settled down. We never made any scenes with each other. Although, it happened that they would vigorously sort out... no, not relationships - they would argue. I'm a terrible debater. We argued passionately. And sometimes, as the children testify, it is very loud. But this is so, the search for truth.

AND: How were tenderness and gratitude expressed?

Solzhenitsyn: Like all people: in gestures, voice, words. Sanya knew how to be endearingly gentle... Well, yes, we had many difficult moments. Life was hopelessly difficult. But it was never difficult for us with each other.

Why did I say we were both lucky? There was, as it happens, such a gaping contradiction that the family went against duty. We were united, so intertwined that whoever of us two went lame, the whole cart went lame at once. Sanya always sympathized with my difficulties, which may not have coincided with his (I had a house, children, the Foundation), grief, which he did not always share, saying that he should not take something to heart - but at the same time he was always near. I think this is called harmony.

AND: When your husband presented you with roses on your 50th birthday, you wrote in your diary, not without irony: “This is really out of the ordinary.” Harmony is harmony, but did the lack of standard signs of attention bother you? Or was this more than offset by the abyss of non-standard ones?

Solzhenitsyn: I was not only not bothered by the lack of standard signs of attention, I was afraid of them and never wanted them. Because any standard sign of attention can serve as a screen to cover up the lack of sincere feelings.

When everything started with Alexander Isaevich, we had such a whirlwind romance, he brought me his favorite lilies of the valley. And I liked them much more than capricious roses because of their lack of pomp. I valued attention highly and its trivial signs low. And there was plenty of attention. Sanya constantly gave me food for some pride, in other words, for happiness. His words - that he could rely on me, that he appreciated accurate remarks, that I had a “good ear” - seemed like the highest compliment possible. Since we worked a lot together, I heard this often. It was impossible to get used to Sanya’s words, it was impossible to get drunk with his approval. You drink, you drink, and every time it’s just living water from a well. After all, I was not insured against the fact that I would make a mistake in something, I could miss. And Sanino’s admiration for almost not missing, surprised gratitude, generous praise - every time they were a sparkling order for me.

What about rituals? In general, I grew up in a non-ritual family. And Sanya couldn’t stand anything ostentatious. Of course, he and I had our own secret dates. Alexander Isaevich usually did not wear a wedding ring. It was on his right hand that prevented him from writing. He kept it in the drawer of his mother’s dressing table, which, like her old round barometer, he treasured very much. Our wedding candles were always kept there. Every time, according to dates known only to us, Sanya put on a ring.

AND: Did you remind?

Solzhenitsyn: Not once in my life. He himself kept these days in his memory. I just might have forgotten. And if this happened, he would look at me reproachfully and knock his ring against mine.

...What Sanya especially avoided was celebrating his birthdays in a grand manner. We loved to celebrate them quietly together. But this was rarely possible. And Sanya always “played short”, he began to persuade in advance: “Give me only tea, and no more.” But, of course, I baked pies. The children gave gifts. Me too. Although I knew that the best gift from me for him (laughs) would be to have time to finish some layer of work by that day.

AND: In recent years, Alexander Isaevich complained about weakness and powerlessness?

Solzhenitsyn: He began to get seriously ill in 2003. After December 2002, I never left Trinity-Lykovo. When Sanya’s left hand gave out, he experienced a rather long period of internal grumbling: “I’ve already done everything on this earth. Why doesn’t the Lord let me go?” And he still sat down at the table. I sighed: before I could work 16 hours a day, then 14, 12, and now only 8. But I worked, I repeat, until the very end. On the third of August at nine in the evening I put him to bed, Sanya fell asleep. And at ten he woke up, called me, and his departure began. He left before midnight.

For the last year and a half, Alexander Isaevich has hardly received guests. I didn’t want to communicate in a wheelchair. He (you can see in the later photograph) - Natalya Dmitrievna turns around and shows the photograph on the shelf behind him - has become a face, not a face. Until they had surgery on the carotid artery, it was completely transparent, blue and white. The operation gave him a fruitful year and a half. They were very bright, although physically difficult. But Sanya didn’t grumble anymore. The spirit remained powerful, but the strength diminished before our eyes. I saw him as a wounded warrior...

But if you look back, Alexander Isaevich lived a happy life.

AND: On the other hand, such a difficult fate.

Solzhenitsyn: He didn't perceive it as heavy. How difficult - yes.

AND: These are synonyms.

Solzhenitsyn: No. Difficulty is not necessarily a bad thing. Well, it’s difficult... Let’s get through it. And heaviness is something very negative, oppressive. Sana always had the vitality of a huge, dynamic force. True, towards the end he began to lose optimism because of everything he saw around him. He left in great concern for the country. I wasn't sure it would survive as such.

AND: When did you feel with particular poignancy: Alexander Isaevich has left and will never return?

Solzhenitsyn: You know, I feel his physical absence continuously. In the first few months this happened at every turn. Such sudden, unbearable blows rolled in. It is impossible to prepare for them and impossible to get used to. Suddenly some detail will pop up and knock you off your feet. For example, I’m washing my face, my toothbrush catches my eye, and then it pierces me - not even a thought, but some piercing physical awareness that he will never touch it again. Or a pectoral metal cross. Sanya put it at the head of the bed at night. And in the morning I put it on, in such a circular motion. Now the cross lives with me. I sometimes wear mine, sometimes I wear his.

But I never experienced Alexander Isaevich’s non-physical care. There simply was no such moment. Most likely it won't. I work every day, live with his texts, his handwriting... This, I remember, was written in front of me, this we edited together. I hear Sanya’s voice, its special intonations. He never left my daily world so much that it was as if we were never separated.

AND: As Solzhenitsyn’s closest “collaborator,” you know better than anyone whether Alexander Isaevich really completed what he planned on earth. Which of the remaining matters did he trustfully transfer to your shoulders?

Solzhenitsyn: We never avoided talking about death, we talked about it without fear and soberly. Alexander Isaevich punished: “When I’m gone, you’ll do this first thing, then the second, the third...” He often warned: “Look, girl, you won’t have time. Don't waste your money." This is if, for example, I often go to concerts at the conservatory. It seemed to me: nonsense, I can do everything. And only now I understand how right he was. The legacy left behind is vast. There is much that has not yet been published that remains to be published. Here is “The Diary of a Novel.” Sanya wrote it for more than 25 years, in parallel with his work on “The Red Wheel”. The genre is unexpected: a diary of work on a novel about the 1917 revolution - not life while working, but the work itself. It’s all there: doubts, and the happiness of the finds, and the indignation of the liars-witnesses who were caught red-handed, and the despair that he had taken on the immensity and would not be able to finish... The diary was Sanya’s friend, with whom he talked in addition to me. Alexander Isaevich did not intend to publish it, but when he finished “The Red Wheel”, he re-read it and said: “Someday we can publish it. Let’s cook anyway.” I reprinted it in 1990. “The Diary of R-17” makes up an entire volume of collected works, which I am preparing for publication. This Assembly is now my main work. So far, you see, there are fourteen volumes, two are on the way. There should be thirty volumes in total.

At the same time, various publishers are reprinting “In the First Circle,” stories, and “Cancer Ward.” They propose to compile a textbook for schoolchildren and publish “Little Things” separately. In connection with the release of the school "Archipelago" teachers are asking for meetings. And in general, it is absurd to stand in the way of these desires. But how to find time for everything? I’m driving myself, flying around Moscow (or languishing in traffic jams) and by the evening I can barely drag myself home. After all, Trinity-Lykovo is a suburb. Any outing eats up the day.

Yes, we need to hurry. The first time I felt anxiety that I “wouldn’t make it in time” was when I just touched the archive. In Geneva there is the famous Martin Bodmer Museum. This man has been collecting rare manuscripts for many years, creating a most valuable collection: there are ancient papyri, Goethe’s manuscripts, and scores by Mozart, Beethoven... From May to October next year, the museum will host an exhibition of Solzhenitsyn’s manuscripts. If it weren’t for this offer from Switzerland, I wouldn’t even have approached the archive yet. And now I pulled out some early things, say, a pre-war checkered notebook where Sanya, a freshman, made sketches for “The Red Wheel.” These are future Samson chapters.

Pages, pages... So many interesting things: notebooks of travel, meetings, scattered pieces of paper with thoughts and impressions. The variety of entries is staggering. Alexander Isaevich himself believed that when thoughts were embodied in a book, the blanks could be thrown away. I threw some away. But much more remains - all this is also an archive. This means that I will gradually read and decide what to do. If I have time...

AND: You and Alexander Isaevich have five grandchildren. Do they realize what a big name they have?

Solzhenitsyn: It seems to me quite. Our two sons, Ermolai and Stepan, live in Trinity-Lykovo. They work for an international consulting firm. Ermolai is the managing director of the Moscow office. Both received excellent educations, studying at Harvard, Princeton and Massachusetts Institute of Technology. They know the world and languages ​​well. They married Russian girls here. Ermolai and Nadya have two children: Ekaterina and Ivan, who are already big. Nine and eight years old.

There are three Ignatiches: Mitya, Anna and Andrey. Ignat comes to Moscow with them every year. His wife is American, a sweet, beautiful woman, a doctor. I converted to Orthodoxy and learned Russian to such an extent that, at least at the table, we should not switch to English. And the children speak, read and write fluently in Russian. Since birth, Ignat communicates with them only in Russian. This summer, for the first time since returning to Russia, I “took a vacation” for two weeks and went to Vermont, gathering all my grandchildren there. In the mornings I finished proofreading the school “Archipelago,” and in the evenings the children and I first read and then staged scenes from “Romeo and Juliet.”

Alexander Solzhenitsyn's desk. Trinity-Lykovo.
December 2010 (photo: Oleg Parshin)

Solzhenitsyn: You will be surprised, but for a long time our sons did not know who their father was. That is, they didn’t know that he was famous. Papa and papa. It works and works. Well, a writer. Sits and writes. We moved to America from Europe when Styopa was two years old, Ignat was three, and Ermolai was almost five. Then the children grew up and went to school. But we lived in the woods - Vermont is quite a remote place - and did not try to tell the children early how well their father was known. On the contrary, they avoided it in every possible way. Just the day before, Styopa was amusingly telling a story at the table (yesterday was that rare happy evening when all the brothers got together) how one day he came home from school and asked his grandmother: “Listen, what is it they say that everyone knows our dad?” That is, he began to interrogate his grandmother because he was in the dark. And we were happy about this ignorance. The longer they were unaware of their father’s worldwide recognition, the longer they grew up as normal children. Any exclusivity can disfigure. This is a double-edged sword. Even, rather, about one thing.

As for the grandchildren, they live in big cities: Moscow and New York. It is impossible to grow up here without having any idea how famous Solzhenitsyn is. But I keep the younger ones strictly. I mean: so what? For them, the glory of their grandfather means one thing - they must be worthy of the inherited name.