Hidden life

Ekaterina Yuryevna Genieva, director of GBIL and a well-known cultural figure, recently published the book “I don’t write to anyone like I do to you...” (M., Rudomino, 2010), which contains the correspondence of her grandmother Elena Vasilyevna Genieva with Sergei Nikolaevich Durylin. These are mainly letters to the exiled Durylin in Tomsk and Kirzhach and his letters from there (1927-1933). When Durylin returned to Moscow, systematic correspondence ceased - the last letter from E.V. is dated 1951 (S.N. Durylin died in 1954; E.V. - in 1979).

E. V. Genieva, née Kirsanova, was born in 1891 into a noble family. She was married to Nikolai Nikolaevich Geniev, a prominent hydrologist, and they had children - Yura (born in 1914) and Lelya (born in 1917).

In relation to E.V., who never served anywhere, who left us no poems, no drawings, no memoirs, the cliché “she belonged to that circle/circle of the Moscow intelligentsia which...” sounds somehow inappropriate. - one circle. For this, E.V. was too rich in soul and open to the world, and besides, she was clearly alien to any fashion, including intellectual fashion.

Deep religiosity, common sense and active kindness attracted a variety of people to E.V. and to her house (especially to the “dacha” on the 43rd km), including church people who did not accept “Sergianism.” But not only them.

Nowadays, it has somehow been forgotten that the estates abolished by the Soviet government continued to actually exist for a long time in social practice, primarily in repressive practice, where a unique new “estate” appeared - the disenfranchised. Formally, this meant the deprivation of citizens’ voting rights, but in essence it was the deprivation of the right to life: those dispossessed were not entitled to food cards, they were evicted and “densified,” their children could not study at universities, etc. The main thing is that the authorities could “appoint” anyone to be deprived, for example, an elderly doctor, since he had a coachman, i.e. "hired employee"

“Dangerous elements” from among educated people, especially those of “noble” origin, were disenfranchised under various pretexts. This must be kept in mind when reading the correspondence of E.V. Genieva with S.N. Durylin, because neither E.V. herself, nor, especially, her husband Nikolai Nikolaevich, could renounce “neither prison nor the bag” , although 1926 and even 1928 These are still relatively calm times. So it’s no coincidence that Professor Geniev kept a “suitcase” ready in his office...

So, “ordinary” life: a house where they raise children, solemnly celebrate Christmas and Easter, read aloud, attend church services, go to the Conservatory and public lectures, organize children's parties, regularly write letters and send books to a friend in exile. But already in 1926-1929. It is precisely the strict observance of the norms of this seemingly usual for E.V. The life of genius was undoubtedly everyday heroism.

In the preface to the book, Ekaterina Genieva writes that E.V., it would seem, “was on the periphery of the “stars of the Silver Age” in the Koktebel circle of Maximilian Voloshin, but at the same time at its center.” It seems to me that “on the periphery” E.V. was in the only sense that she herself did not write poetry, paintings, or music. She was in the “center” because she was endowed with the happy gift of understanding and sympathy.

And perhaps most important: E.V. Genieva was really smart .

Thanks to the position of her husband, a famous scientist in the field of water supply (and from some point also a major general), E.V. could not only feed two children, a nanny and relatives, but also provide shelter in her dacha for “wanderers and travelers” (or even simply expelled from their homes), systematically supporting many with money and things.

And E.V. was not only concerned about church people. Let us at least mention the philosopher and poet Sergei Mikhailovich Solovyov, whose life E.V. simply saved by hiding him in a psychiatric hospital; his daughters, whom she cared for for many years, and many more who are briefly or even hintedly mentioned in letters - we can only guess about her efforts.

It was Durylin who introduced E.V. to Tyutchev’s descendants, who kept the Muranovo estate, where she and her children often visited; with her longtime friend, the artist M.V. Nesterov - E.V. saw him regularly and sometimes bought his paintings.

E.V.'s correspondence with Durylin begins with the exchange of short business and friendly notes, but changes sharply when Durylin finds himself in exile in Tomsk (his spiritual daughter Irina Komissarova will share this exile with him and the next one). From now on, these are detailed letters from close people, each of whom is important to know everything about his correspondent that he wants to share. Weather, housing, prices, heating the stove, the health of Durylin himself and Irina (she sometimes writes to E.V. and her children), the market, holidays, and most importantly, work.

S.N. Durylin was a great worker. His gift was primarily educational: he wrote more “in breadth” than “in depth.” Perhaps this is why Durylin preferred to simultaneously deal with several, often unrelated, topics. Successful and beneficial for his work was the absence of claims to the originality of the form, but Durylin’s intention is obvious to awaken the reader, to introduce him to genuine values, be it the Russian religious tradition, the painting of Nesterov, the poems of Baratynsky and Tyutchev, or the dramaturgy of Ostrovsky.

For Durylin, a mental dialogue with a sympathizer—a potential reader—has always been very important (this is his book “In Your Corner,” begun in exile in Chelyabinsk in 1924, continued in Tomsk and completed in Kirzhach). All the more terrible was the prospect of isolation in Tomsk, where at first Durylin had no acquaintances.

Correspondence with E.V. Genieva immediately compensates for all communication deficits: she is a friend; it is open to “all impressions of existence”; at thirty-six, she takes care of him like a mother (he calls her mom); around her - in Moscow, St. Petersburg, Muranovo - people close to him.

E.V. stores part of Durylin’s library and personal belongings dear to him, in particular icons. Many of his books and manuscripts are in Moscow with different people, and E.V. looks for the books and materials Durylin needs, makes certificates and extracts for him; all this is systematically sent to Tomsk. Without this constant help, Durylin would not have been able to work - and he would not have survived.

Thanks to those sent by E.V. with materials he completed some of the articles that were already published; Durylin even received a fee for some of them.

S. N. Durylin was primarily a teacher by vocation: it is no coincidence that in his time he devoted so much energy to pedagogy. He never spared time to communicate with children and, presumably, not for the sake of earning money alone, he continued to work with children in the early 20s. It was as a home teacher that he was his own person in the house of E. A. Nersesova, a close friend of E. V. Genieva. There they met, and soon Durylin began to work with E.V.’s children - Yura and Lelya (Elena Nikolaevna Genieva, future mother of Ekaterina Yuryevna Genieva).

It is appropriate to note here that Evgenia Aleksandrovna Nersesova, with whom E.V. was close friends, was the daughter of the famous engineer Alexander Bari (among other things, we owe him the spans of GUM and the ceilings of the Kievsky railway station). Evgenia Alexandrovna’s husband, Professor A. N. Nersesov, was in charge of the Moscow State University library at the time described. This family constantly supported the persecuted and exiled. This was the environment to which E.V. belonged.

Subsequently, many of Durylin’s letters addressed to E.V. are accompanied by letters addressed to Yura and Lelya - of course, to each separately; Accordingly, the children write to Sergei Nikolaevich as a loved one.

The correspondence of E.V. Genieva with S.N. Durylin is remarkable for the combination of the intensity of feelings of both correspondents with the naturalness and simplicity of their expression. At the same time, Durylin was a prolific and experienced author, and E.V., according to her, felt constrained in the epistolary genre, although in fact she writes wonderfully - restrained and strong.

Although E.V. did not serve anywhere, she was, nevertheless, very busy - and how could it be otherwise if, as she writes, ten people often sat at the table, and from the dacha to the station it was necessary to walk 3 miles... She sewed clothes for children, obtained food, and took care of homeless nuns. She had little real free time, when she could dispose of herself, so she often began writing a letter after midnight, which she reported to Durylin, who always awaited her letters with impatience and anxiety.

Of course. both correspondents understood that their letters were censored, but still these were still relatively “vegetarian” times, so despite the inevitable circumstance, the main thing - to the extent that both Durylin and E.V. wanted to reveal themselves - they expressed without further ado.

E. V. Genieva died in 1979 in an invariably clear mind; In the introductory essay, E. Yu. Genieva briefly spoke about her grandmother and her last days.

S. N. Durylin, fortunately, returned to Moscow and until 1954 he lived, as it were, another life at his dacha in Bolshevo, becoming a famous historian of the Russian theater. But that is another story…