Moldovan heroes of Russian culture

The supertension of the cultural context, torn between the former metropolis - Russia and the province of the West - Romania, gives rise to despair comparable to what arose among the Jews in Sinai or among the early Christian hermits in the Egyptian desert. Loneliness in a crowd sometimes leads not to neurosis, but to creative sublimation.

In modern Moldova there are heroes of Russian culture.

The most notable contribution to it is the archaeological journal "Stratum", published by the Higher Anthropological School. The permanent editorial board consists of 29 scientists representing 18 scientific centers in Moldova, Romania, Bulgaria, Russia, Ukraine, Germany, Denmark, France and the USA. This ambitious project is conceived as an annual panorama of the main sections of world archeology. Five issues are devoted to the main archaeological eras - the Paleolithic and Mesolithic, the Neolithic and Bronze Age, the Iron Age and Antiquity, the cultures of the Roman era and the era of the Great Migration of Peoples, the Middle Ages. The materials of the sixth contain numismatics and epigraphy. The average volume of an issue is 30 author's sheets.

The magazine positions itself as supranational and interstate. Its goal is “to establish connections and unite the research efforts of scientists in the development of scientific thought in archeology and cultural anthropology in general in the world and especially in the post-Soviet space.”

Since 1999, the creative team has managed to carry out 8 complete “cycles” of six thematic issues of the magazine. In the 48 issues that have already been published, 44 monographs and about 1000 articles by authors from 37 countries of the world have been published - Moldova, Romania, Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, Bulgaria, Poland, Czech Republic, Hungary, Germany, Great Britain, Italy, France, Belgium, Sweden, Norway, China, USA, Israel, Turkey, Pakistan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, etc. [i] .

In terms of its universal scope, the project has no analogues not only in Russia, but also in world archeology. The publication in Russian inherits the best traditions of the great Soviet archeology and worthily represents in the modern scientific world the archaeological empire that by no means died with the USSR.

The driving force behind this financially expensive project is its editor-in-chief and sponsor Mark Tkachuk.

He is a graduate of the graduate school of the Institute of the History of Material Culture of the Russian Academy of Sciences. His Ph.D. thesis with the title “Archaeology of Freedom”, provocative for flux-like specialists in shards and brooches, created a sensation in the community of Russian archaeologists [ii] . The idea, proven on traditional archaeological material, that the ordering (standardization) of a culture is a diagnostic sign of its imminent death and the next cultural explosion is applicable not only to the distant past. It is enough to look at the film “The Irony of Fate” as a metaphor for the total uniformity of Brezhnev’s stagnation to see in the “twin cult” of streets, houses, interiors and even the contents of the bookshelves of the intelligentsia a premonition of the imminent death of a society in which time has stood still. I am sure that over time this and other innovative ideas of the “Archaeology of Freedom” will enter into wide humanitarian circulation.

Much to our regret for science, Tkachuk became a big politician in a small country in the 2000s. During all eight years of PCRM rule, the former anarchist worked in the “apparatus of violence” as an adviser to the red president Voronin. Now he is a member of parliament, one of the leaders of the communist opposition.

Being an immodest person, I will mention the book publishing program “Cantemir”, under the slogan: “Grateful Moldova to the brotherly people of Russia.”

The program was launched in 2005 during a period of deterioration in relations between the Republic of Moldova and the Russian Federation, when the imprudent policies of the Moldovan communists led to the failure of the agreement on the settlement of the Transnistrian conflict and a retaliatory ban on the import of Moldovan wine and other agricultural products to Russia. The program was conceived in the conditions of, dare I say it, anti-Moldovan hysteria of the pro-Kremlin press as a symbolic asymmetrical – love versus hate – response. My friend and companion Sergei Vasilievich Marar and I considered it our duty to show the Russians that the Moldovan people are not an enemy of Russia. Moreover, such Moldovans as the founder of the first Russian university of the Kiev-Mohyla Academy Petr Movila (1597-1647), a graduate of the University of Padua, author of the first Russian arithmetic textbook, the book "Description of China" Nikolai Milescu-Spataru (1636-1708), the first Russian scientist, member of the Berlin Academy of Sciences Dmitry Cantemir (1673-1723), one of the founders of modern Russian poetry Antioch Cantemir (1708-1744), the first Russian author whose works caused heated controversy in the West Alexander Sturdza (1791-1854) - made an important contribution in the Europeanization of Russian culture. For this reason, its cultural achievements are an integral part of the spiritual heritage of the Moldovan people.

Over eight years, three dozen publications were published within the framework of this “peacekeeping” program, most of which were reviewed in the leading scientific and humanitarian media of the Russian Federation [iii] . I consider it necessary to highlight three books: Memoirs of a long-term employee of the Pushkin House, Lydia Mikhailovna Lotman, in which a significant place is given to her great younger brother and their parents; A complete corpus of letters from the legendary politically incorrect (“How sweet it is to hate Russia!”) from Vladimir Sergeevich Pecherin, of which M.O. Gershenzon at one time pulled out the text of the “Grave Notes”. The full publication of one of the most important monuments for Russian culture was carried out by Moscow State University professor S.L. Chernov; Oral memoirs of the no less legendary and equally politically incorrect (“What don’t we like about them?”) Vasily Vitalievich Shulgin, recorded at his own peril and risk in the late 60s - the first half of the 70s by military sailor R.G. Krasyukov.

Non-provincial Russian literature in Moldova is represented, first of all, by the name of Vladimir Lorchenkov. By the age of 34, the PR manager for a Turkish travel company has 10 published books, including in the largest Russian publishing houses AST (4 novels) and EKSMO (2). Most recently, he published a novel in the USA [iv] . His works were published in translation in Germany, Italy, Serbia, and Norway. He is a laureate of notable Russian awards "Debut" (2003) and "Russian Prize" (2008). In 2012, his novel “King Solomon’s Mines” was included in the short list of the famous “Natsbest”. The best literary critics in Russia write about his work.

Lorchenkov brazenly declares that he is the founder of Moldovan literature in Russian. Unlike most of his fellow countrymen, I can agree that he rightfully appropriates the laurels of Moldavian Pushkin.

The “Founder” created his own Moldova. On the one hand, its virtual creation strictly correlates with the realities of the country in which we live. At the same time, Lorchenkov’s Moldova is a myth similar to those that have arisen more than once in the history of world literature. The closest parallel is Marquez's Macondo. The author himself acknowledges this typological similarity [v] . The living myth of historical memory always crowds out the dry calculations of historical science. I am sure that in the future Moldova during the period of national revival will be judged by the novels of Lorchenkov, just as today we represent the France of Cardinal Richelieu based on the novels of Dumas and the England of Richard III based on the plays of Shakespeare.

Lorchenkov looks at his homeland through the eyes of his former older brother, who found himself in the humiliating role of an ethnic minority. The author arranges the “soviet” discourse of local Russophones in his own way: “We built everything for them, washed them, taught them. And they are ungrateful and incapable of anything without us.” In his view, the peak of Russian history was the post-Petrine period of the European empire, which, together with the British, proudly bore the burden of the white man. But an envious Englishwoman spoiled things in 1917. With the hands of the Jews she destroyed a flourishing power. The Soviet Union was a puppet of the Anglo-Saxon West, a blind tool in the struggle against Hitler for world domination.

For Lorchenkov, the epithet “Soviet” is a sign of the damage caused by the Jews to the Aryan-style healthy Russian culture. To be “Soviet” for an author often means to be Jewish. In some situations, this is not a euphemism, but evidence of the infection of the pure Russian soul by corrupting Jewish influences.

Lorchenkova's Moldova, on the one hand, is inhabited by Gauguin's aborigines who continue to follow pastoral customs on the ruins of an industrial society. The anecdotal Moldovans, with their mental clumsiness and careful adherence to Turkish fashion, are a worthy pair with “Soviet” Russian speakers. These are either Jews or over-Jewish ethnic trash without family or tribe.

The Russian imperial in Lorchenkov's works is always present in a single copy. His lyrical hero, named Lorinkov, is an hardly ironic cross between Hemingway, never dry from double bourbon, and Miller, never dry from every-minute orgasms. Only by staying in alcoholic nirvana can a person with intelligence and talent survive the routine apocalypse of modern Moldova. Lorinkov is the favorite hero of the narcissistic writer.

Lorchenkov’s Moldavian dystopia is not only depressing. It is performed with great ingenuity and humor.

Thus, the plot of the film-novel “King Solomon’s Mines” is built on the arrival of the still unknown actress Natalie Portman to Moldova. Her visit to the homeland of her ancestors (the actress’s parents emigrated from Moldova a few months before her birth) was caused by the search for jewelry that the Mowgli boy Solomon, named Tsar, took during the Second World War from Jews killed by the Romanians. The Virgil Portman of Moldavian hell, naturally, becomes the unemployed Lorinkov. Following in the footsteps of the couple are two thugs from the Mossad, who believe that the people of Israel have more rights to the damned treasures.

The work is stylized as a “script” by indicating the location and nature of the camera movement. The reverse influence of cinema on literature is played out consistently and very convincingly, starting with the choice of the main character-film star. By transferring the style of the scandalous Tarantino to Moldavian soil, Lorchenkov breaks all the rules of dreary political correctness. The virtual lifting of the prohibitions of real life fills the work with immoral and, therefore, genuine humor.

It is enough to mention the scenes dedicated to the underground circle of Soviet Jews, disguised as a chess section. People who, in connection with the opening of the emigration floodgates, remembered their Jewishness, study the testaments of their ancestors using the only available literature - the Protocols of the Elders of Zion.

"The general plan of the table - twelve people are sitting around it. They are all dressed very strangely. They are all wearing high-quality Soviet suits, but, for some reason, each has a detail that stands out from the general style of clothing. At the same time, everyone is holding a dagger in their hand. Details from all around: a mask made of gold foil, like a Venetian prostitute from high society who came out to have sex to her heart's content at a carnival; false sidelocks, making their owner look like an exaggerated Pushkin; a bright red kippah, more like a cardinal's cap, but it is clear that people tried. by touch, and reproduced the kippah according to the drawings; a false nose, making its owner a caricature of a spider-banker from the posters of Nazi Germany... In general, it’s the 60s, Zionism in the USSR has only just begun, so much has not yet been invented: the thousand-year history of the Temple, Jewish ancestors of Mendeleev, etc. The faces of the men are tense. In one of them - with false sidelocks - we recognize Natalya’s father, who in the previous scene is dying in a New York hospital. He finally says:

- Well, so?

Nobody responds. A painful, long pause. The men look like the management of the MSSR construction trust, who learned that they would be checked by the OBKHSS. Very embarrassed, thoughtful and sad, but at the same time, not without a hint of determination. Finally the one in the foil mask says:

“Judging by the protocols of the Elders of Zion, we need to inflict wounds on him here, here and here...” [vi] .

In connection with this plot development, the introduction of Soviet intellectuals to the gospel history through the blasphemous masterpiece of Bulgakov arises in memory.

The writer’s inherent desire to remove prohibitions not only in literature, but also in life led to the fact that there was no circle of local admirers of “his own” around him, who broke through to the heights of fame in the literary metropolis. Lorchenkov, indeed, does not balance his passion for “jokingly” insulting others with his easily wounded pride. In Moldova, he ruined the relationship with almost everyone, thanks to the “Pushkin” habit of giving the “Soviet” heroes of his works the names of characters in the public life of Moldova.

My late dad and I also received this honor. But these cute jokes addressed to me are not able to change the attitude towards the bright talent of the enfanterry-FUCKING Moldavian literature. As a historian, I know that Russian geniuses were unbearable in life. This is the price they paid for the gift, perhaps not always more. But this gift is necessary for society. And I forgive Lorchenkov what I would not forgive mediocrity.

But mediocrity does not forgive the founder of Moldavian literature in Russian. Unlike Russia and Romania, in Moldova there was not a single review of Lorchenkov’s prose. The level of envy of local colleagues becomes clear from their report on the creative achievements of Russian literature in Moldova, which, according to its compilers, indicates "recognition at the international level." Among the highest non-state awards: victory at the intergalactic competition "Literary Vienna", getting on the shortlist of the German competition "Za-Za", diploma of the competition "Russian Style" (Germany), entering the longlist of the Russian competition "Coordination of Times", winning capital of Russian literature - London, the title of "King of the Super Tournament of Russian Poets Abroad 2012", victory in the "Great Literary Competition" and in the "Poetry without Borders" competition [vii] . People who did not mention Lorchenkov’s “shorts” at “Natsbest” thereby testified that deep down they understand how pitiful their regalia is. Their neurotic desire to ignore the remarkable is yet another evidence of the self-sufficient provincialism of local creative circles.

The second prose writer I would like to mention is Sergei Digol. He was born into a Russian-Moldovan family in 1976. He works as a creative director at an advertising company. I started writing when I entered the age group “for those over 30.” He differs from the prodigy Lorchenkov not only by his late start, but also by his sympathetic understanding of his people. Understanding does not mean admiring at all. The Moldavian in Digol’s portrayal is affectionately selfish, not only killing with sympathy for the victim, but also going under the knife with sheepish obedience. Romanians condescendingly call this phenomenon the “mioritic consciousness” of the Moldovans, after the seer sheep Mioritsa from the national epic of the same name. It should also be noted that Dovlatov’s self-irony is what makes Digol’s works so different from Lorchenkov’s narcissistic texts.

The story “My Dusty Burdens” is wonderful. The hero, a middle manager, oppressed by a midlife crisis, low salary, two children and a pregnant wife, inherits an apartment. He does not tell his wife about this, dreaming of using the unexpectedly acquired living space for pleasure. While taking the carpet to the dry cleaner, he learns that a girl with the “Roman” name Cornelia, typical of rural Moldavians from the time of the national revival, is looking for housing. The hero sets a ridiculous price of $100 per month. The girl does not believe in happiness and fears a catch. While they go to look at the apartment, she builds criminal versions in her mind, one more terrible than the other. Everything turns out to be not scary at all: a blowjob once a week, and on top of that there’s a 50 bucks discount

“Every Wednesday,” I told Cornelia. - If it doesn’t work out on Wednesday, then on Friday. I'll call ahead.

Of course, it would be convenient for her on Saturday or Sunday, on days when I could not help but be with my family. On Monday, I stayed late at work until eight, which was due to the faxes and letters that had accumulated over the weekend. Tuesday and Thursday were legally and reliably booked by my wife, who greeted me these days with silence and even a smile - probably out of fear of harming my erection with anger.

“Wednesday,” the seamstress nodded obediently.

Maybe I was presumptuous, but it seemed to me that there was a sparkle in her eyes. Or maybe she was just happy about a good deal. Twelve dollars and fifty cents for one session is not bad at all for a poor seamstress without her own home, especially since, as the sample showed, she is unlikely to need more than three minutes.”

Unlike science, the essence of literature is not in generalizations, but in “typifying,” as Soviet literary scholars would say, details. And the author gives such detail. Before starting to perform the duties that “encumber” the transaction, the girl takes off—a typical gesture of a zealous Moldovan woman—“a white blouse and bra.” The counterpoint to the storyline is the routine of family life, against the backdrop of which three minutes of happiness once a week is just some kind of holiday. [viii] .

So far, Sergei Digol’s talent has been discovered only in the Saratov wilderness. For 2010-2012, five of his publications appeared in the Volga. I am sure that this wonderful writer has a great future.

The work of Oleg Panfila (born in 1962) balances on the verge of prose and poetry. The author builds prose not along the storyline, but parallel to the "stanzas" of metaphors. In poetry, he, on the contrary, is complete without rhythm and rhyme crutches. Panfil is not only a magician of literature. He is just a magician. Thanks to his outstanding psychic abilities, many people have healed from incurable diseases. Panfil's works do not even fit into the framework of the usual genres who have become almost dimensionless in the era of postmodernism. The reviewer of the magazine "October" writes about the novel "You! Let's run away from here ..." (Novosibirsk, 2007): "A new type of prosaic text appeared in Russian" [IX] .

Metalitativity of the works of Panfil leads to the lack of its publications in leading Russian literary magazines. Hearing about him is spreading, so to speak, verbally. I have repeatedly addressed Russian fans of fiction with the question: is there really a person named Oleg Panfil in Moldova? In the background of the issue, not only the suspicion that the next Cherubin de Gabriac was introduced into the world of literature. Perplexity was also born by Russian stereotypes about the Moldovans-Tsigans-builders, who, after making love, turn to the wall and begin to plaster it. I testify, Oleg Panfil, really exists and, indeed, is an ethnic Moldavian.

Thanks to the congenital bilingualism, he translates from Romanian, including on orders of Russian publishers[X] . Communicates with leading figures of Romanian culture. Unfortunately, its unique ability to translate one culture to the side of the other is little in demand in a cultural confrontation characteristic of modern Moldova. Nevertheless, the ability to breathe with two lungs of a single European civilization undoubtedly enriches his poetic world.

The manner of Panfil’s letters can be called magical metaphorism. Its texts are built as multi -level metaphors not by all a tangible context. The thinking reed from Moldova undoubtedly understands Panfil differently than his Russian counterpart:

... but I was distracted.

So, under the gilde gold, under the sky of draginich
I left the river to the banks of the cattle breeders. Hunters at the zenith
Changed during diving. Now above us
Two falcons soared. Already before leaving
A moth sat on my right palm. He
I did not fly away for so long that I spoke in me
Circle of madness - the amethyst was purely and irreparably burning,
Exluding anesthesia ether - nobody but me -
The circle closed up - scared to say -
Twenty -two years later (

under the haze of gold, under the sky, near Odessa,
I postponed the book. The sea was replaced below
During two pages. "Probably, I thought - neither here nor here
Neither anywhere and I am unwanted, nor later, nor soon
We will see you with you. "And at the same moment
azure moth to a brackish map
My right hand is suddenly clinging.
From its pale -winged covers seven purple
Black eyes looked at me.
And through a moment
He flew away, flashing with transparent dust.

What terms were reduced with you?
which ones? spaces fell on us with you glac
behind the haze of gold, behind the sky, behind Odessa
.)
But that time I was mistaken
- Not seven, but eleven purple
Black eyes looked at me
From the shelves. Hang from above.
Satellikov ruffled the chills. as soon as
I recognized him and remembered him
He flew away, flashing
Under the Golden Heat, behind the sky of Draginich
Behind the clay river

Modern poetry in the "damned city" has a little -known, but glorious tradition. In the late 60s and early 80s, a circle of poets, excommunicated by the older generations from the printing press and, accordingly, dividends of literary life, developed here. The most famous of them are Evgeny Croat (1961-1993)[XI] and, now, an American poet who writes Russian and English laureate of the US Congress Library (2001-2002)-Katya Kapovich. Most representatives of the "lost generation" scattered around the world. Recently, one of them returned to Chisinau from the wandering - the practically non -published and extremely talented Alexander Fradis (born in 1951). His biography is Amalgama Francois Viyon, Thomas de Queens and Humbert Humbert. Such a background destroys health, fertilizing poetry. Admiration does not allow you to coldly analyze his poems. Here is one of them, dedicated to the tragically departed from life to Eugene Croat:

Zhenya

Do not breathe before your death.

You will not write before death.

You will not inflate before your death.

You will not spray before your death.

Glorious gate
in that outrageous alley,
on which you turn back
Both in Ikstlan and Galileo -
From a dubious monastery,
Where by night watchmen
Cherubim-fighters
They will turn under the stained glass windows.

Papa-Mama-Deny-
New-year-Okhapka-Khvorost
- Don’t go for the fence:
They scorch to defeat here
Regardless of age.
There are only flashes over the dunes
halogen headlights.
Lao Tzu with Mao Tzu-Dunes,
Don Huans with Che Guevars ...

So put the end of the discussions
Without ridicule and reproach.
Blood seduces aftertaste
Monastery Kagor.
That is, if you rise
Above yourself, running out of captivity, -
Do not breathe in front of death.
Before a new life - not on ...

The “winged” metaphor of the cherub-fighters, alliteration will “turn over stained glass”, causing a falling aircraft in the mind and howl, and clapping the wings of a take-off of a large bird, a reinforced identity of the participle in which the blood has an alcoholic aftertaste, give an idea of ​​the size of poetic talent Alexandra Fradis.

The poet Sergei Pagyn (born in 1969) lives in the Moldavian village of Unitsa, conditionally designated on the map as a "city". Works in journalism. He was published in such publications as “Banner” and “Friendship of Peoples”, in the poetic magazine “Children of the RA” and others.

His poems demonstrate how much the look of a person living "in nature" is distinguished by the "tactile" producing: "At the clay wall, whose essence is bright, and dreams are rough"[XII] , "in longitudinal cracks, laundry soap", "dumbfounded bags, in the bag. Pale flower knot. " Such a clear sense of individuality of things is inaccessible to the city consumer, for whom the world consists of interchangeable, due to its equivalent nature, goods. It would be a mistake to see in involuntary attention to the details a mundane view of the world. On the contrary, the details are revealed in the details of the inconsistent life that gives rise to discussion about time, meaning, God:

Smilery.
Secret.
Saturday evening.
A candle burns in a hollow pumpkin,
Lighting his son face and shoulders.
And then he rushes the street, growling,

With a tender head, gloomy -
Triangular gaze, Golden Oshcher ...
In the dark, transparent,
alive,
Sverchkova
He is scorching a cat that by the night ser

Yes, neighboring children ...
Their squeal and joy
run away into chattering, in the dust,
Decreasing summer,
And fear and sweetness,
The head flickering in the hands[XIII] .

Victoria Chebartseva earns on food, as a manager of a furniture salon in Chisinau. There is no hint of “Akhmatov” in her behavior, and for the execution of the “Akhmadullin” signs of Neommia, who loved most modern Russian “poets”. Vika, so she signs her works, is obligatory, businesslike, does not like to waste time on empty conversations.

Each free of furniture is dedicated to the scripture of poems, as well as the numerous translations of poets of the former Soviet republics from the sale of furniture. This intensive poet-internationalism can be explained by the longing for the carrier of the repressed Russian culture at the cozy times of the Soviet interethrough idyll. It is no coincidence that Chebartsev is published in the "friendship of peoples." It is also published by "Children of the Ra", "Day and Night", "Star of the East", "October", etc.

Thanks to the Greek roots, she feels a spiritual connection with the ancient heritage of the archipelago, the oriental motives of the power of Alexander the Great, the tragic degeneration of the Byzantine Empire into the Ottoman. Native Greece Chebartseva is a personal myth of a poet who feels a stranger on his land. The despair of the cultural context is transformed into the traditional form of love lyrics. The suffering of a person abandoned by his homeland turns, with a change in gender roles, the inescapable longing of a woman left by her beloved:

Aladzhaly

I write again ..

Answers without questions. Transfer even from Angel to the Apostolsky. Or from Bogova to the human one - I can’t answer you about the longing that it sleeps at the bottom of my pupils, not facing your steps with sweet pain.
Are you here.
I'm there.
You are there.
I'm here. And to study the signs of other people's spaces along the lines of fate is doomed.
You are there.
I am where you are - flattened, crucified and forgotten, and is devoted to the morning dawn.
And the new city and the country are different, and again I would delight, like an eternal Jew, losing myself, not knowing about you. And time with silence says, clicking the clock with arrows.
Have you ever thought that sound is always movement and resistance? Chinars are silent if the wind is sleeping. And in a dried -up Aryk, water does not sound - July, until August - Chille. And the word will not break from the tongue until the lips are opened in the movement. Sometimes I hear when the soul leaves for you in a dream, singing about what will never happen. Not with us, not now, I know.
Winter came to Aladzhaly suddenly in the middle of the summer. Coffee will do. And fingers freeze in narrow sleeves. And a motley crowd of barren women came to listen to the sheikh. Only I, entangled in the names of the dilapidated streets, are running from them. I hear, I will never become the one who is granted from above to give birth to your child.
And the sky fluttered on the roof. The pillows dry. The black -eyed boy pulls a donkey with a rope.

Aladzhaly
/July, without date/

I hope I managed to show that in Moldova there are creators whose competitiveness is recognized in the Russian "Hamburg account". It is very surprised that these people not only do not maintain close contacts, which would undoubtedly fertilize their work, but in some cases they are not even familiar with each other. Including for this reason in the Chisinau of our days there are no opportunities for the formation of a productive environment of Russian culture.

The demoralized state of the Russian -speaking community is my personal tragedy. For a quarter of a century, I lived a dream that it was in my little Motherland that the Messianic cultural impulse will arise, capable of not only revitalizing the mummifies of Russia, but also break down the descending tendencies of all Christian civilization. I believed that the civilizational break between Russia and the West passing through Moldova can be transformed into a bridge that will connect Western and Eastern Christians. I put the main hope in this creative breakthrough on the intellectual potential of Russian -speaking. I was sure that they would be able to inspire the entire multi -ethnic Moldavian people to great achievements and would set the tone[XIV] .

Unfortunately, I judged the potential of "single-speakers" by my closest acquaintances, mostly humanitarian scientists. I gave the impression that the high culture of these people is supported by a worthy level of the Russian -speaking environment.

Modern technologies led to unprecedented social consequences. The "silent majority" has found a voice for the first time in history. If earlier we studied public opinion on newspaper publications, now, thanks to the feedback from Internet resources and social networks, the “voice of the people” is heard without flattering media mediation. “Pastes” and “Kamenya” of hundreds of “friends” on Facebook give a clear idea of ​​the trends of consciousness. His imprint in the virtual space, convincingly demonstrates how a disabristly “narrow circle” and, as “terribly distant” creative loners from the Russian-speaking people of modern Moldova. Reading a friendliness that amazes aggression and self -confident ignorance cannot but depress. The downward intellectual trend is obvious.

I am ashamed that behind the trees I did not notice the frace of the "Russian forest" for a long time. The peaks are still turning green, and the roots are almost dried. Today it remains only to repeat the bitter words of Emperor Alexander I, who was disappointed in the reformist potential of the noble estate: "There is no one to take"! For this reason, Moldova is today captured by a bunch of irresponsible robbers who lead the country to a social disaster. I have nothing more to hope for. But I still hope.

[i] about the magazine. URL: http://www.e-anthropology.com/o-jurnale/default.aspx

[II] Tkachuk M.E. Archeology of Freedom. Critical experience

theories. Chisinau, 1996. 197 p.

[III] Publications published as part of the Kantemir program. Thematic numbers of the journal "Nestor": Nestor No. 10. The Finnish Peoples of Russia: Problems of History and Culture / Otv. ed.

V.I. Musaev, 2007; Nestor No. 11. Change of Paradigm: Modern Russiastery / Otv. ed. B. N. Mironov, 2007; Nestor No. 12. Russian life in memoirs / ed. ed. A.I. Kupaygorodskaya, 2008; Nestor No. 13. Childhood World: Family, Wednesday, School / Otv. ed. E. M. Balashov, 2009; Nestor No. 14. Technology of power-2 / ed. ed. I.V. Lukoyanov, S.E. Erlich, 2010. Library of the Nestor magazine: December 14, 1825. Vol. VIII / Otv. ed. O. I. Kiyanskaya, 2010; Ganelin R. Sh. Soviet historians: What they talked about among themselves. Pages of memoirs about the 1940-1970s. 2nd ed., 2006; Ganelin R. Sh. "What are you doing to me!" As brought under execution. Documents about the life and death of V. N. Kashin, 2006; Gordin Ya. A. Roads that we choose, or running in a circle, 2006; Kiyanskaya G. M., Kiyansky I. A. Memoirs, 2007; Shcherbatov A. G. My memories / Ed. O. I. Kiyanskaya, 2006. The series "Real Past": Baevsky V. S. Roman of one life, 2007; Galitsky P.K. "Almost a hundred years of life ..." Memories of the surviving Stalin repression, 2009; Klein L. S. is difficult to be Klein, 2009; Lotman L.M. Memoirs, 2007. Non-seerry publications: Anti-Earlich. Pro-Moldova, 2006; Potseva A. G., Kiyanskaya O. I. Gover of affairs. To the history of literary, financial and conspiratorial activities K.F. Ryleev, 2010; Dergachev V. A. On scepter, about horses, about war: Studies in defense of the migration concept of M. Gimbutas, 2007; Ismail-Zade D.I. I. Vorontsov-Dashkov-administrator, reformer, 2007; Lapin V.V. Poltava - Russian Glory: Russia in the Northern War of 1700-1721, 2009; Pecherin V. S. apologia pro vita mea: the life and adventures of the Russian Catholic, told by himself / Pubel. and comment. S. L. Chernova, 2011; The Russian family "Dans la Tourmente d Chain E ..." / Letters to O. A. Tolstoy-Voeikova 1927-1930. / PUBL. and comment. V. Zhober. Ed. 2nd, 2009; Russian future: Sat. Art. / ed.-comp. V.V. Shtepa, 2008; Zvirkun V.I. Dimitri Kantemir. Pages of life in letters and documents, 2010. Shulgin V.V. Shadows, which pass / comp. R. G. Krasyukov, 2012; Erlich S.E. History of the myth. Decembrist legend. Herzen, 2006; Erlich S.E. Russia Koldunov, 2006; Erlich S.E. Metaphor of the rebellion, 2009; Erlikh S.E. Besopia, 2012; Erlich S.E. Utopy Demon, 2012.

[IV] Lorchenkov V. Swing pairs. Franc-Tireur, 2013. 325 p. http://www.lulu.com/shop/%D0%B2%D0%BB%D0%B0%D0%B4%D0%B8%D0%BC%D0%B8%D1%80 D0%BE%D1%80%D1%87%D0%B5%D0%BD%D0%BA%D0%BE%D0%B2/%D1%81%D0%B2%D0%D0%BD%D0 %B3%D1%83%D1%8E%D1%89%D0%B8%D0%B5-%D0%BF%D0%B0%D1%80%D1%8B/PRODUCT-20672925.HTML

[VI] Lorchenkov V. Cop of King Solomon. Roman's script // Volga. 2011. No. 7-8. URL: http://magazines.russ.ru:8080/volga/2011/7/lo5.html

[VII] We are! An open letter to the Ministry of Culture from the Association of Russian Writers of Moldova // Information and Political Portal Ava.md. 2013. January 11.Url: http: //ava.md/projects/russian-in-moldova/018853-mi-est-otkritoe-pis-mo-ministvu-kul-turi-ot-osciaciacih-pisatelei-moldovovi .html

[VIII] Digol S. My dusty burden // Volga. 2010. No. 1-2. URL: http: //magazines.russ.ru/volga/2010/1/di9.html

[IX] Silver O. Texts and tests // October. 2008. No. 12. URL: http: //magazines.russ.ru/october/2008/12/se30.html

[x] Yern V. Born in the USSR. Translation Panfil O. M .: Hell Margin, 2007. 240 p.

[XI] Yuryev O. Rolled cast of the face // Critical mass. 2006. No. 3. URL: http://magazines.russ.ru/km/2006/3/ur26.html

[XII] Pagyn S. in the nurse of fate // Children of RA. 2010. No. 8. URL: http: //magazines.russ.ru/ra/2010/8/pa3.html

[XIII] Pagyn S. Savior Cashtan // Banner. 2011. No. 9. URL: http://magazines.russ.ru/znamia/2011/9/pa5.html

[XIV] Erlich S.E. Russia sorcerers. SPb.: Aletheia, 2006. 292 p. URL: http: //culturossica.ru/2012/11/26/ehrlikh-se-rossiya-koldunov-spb-Aletejja-2006-292-S/; Erlikh S.E. Russia as Europe (view from Moldova) // Conference "La Russian et l'Europe: autres et semblaans", université paris sorbonne-Paris IV, 10-12 MAI 2007 [EN LIGNE], LYON, ENS LSH , Mis en ligne le 26 novembre 2008. URL: http://institut-est-ouest.ens-lsh.fr/spip.php?article118; Erlich S.E. Utopia Bessov. St. Petersburg: Nestor-History, 2012. 136 p. URL: http://culturossica.ru/2012/10/07/ehrlikh-se-topii-spb-nestor-istoriya-2012-150