It's time to pass

Why do we need New Year? Analysis of the holiday from Evgenia Pishchikova

One person on one new year was forced to stay at night in the office in the very-sample center of the city. And early in the morning - and morning after the New Year's Eve is always wonderful: empty, transparent, obscured - he went to the subway and suddenly heard strange sounds. Delicate, puppy, crystal ringing, not stopping for a second. Then the man went to the ringing and ended up on Red Square. Through the entire area, along the paving stones, in complete void and silence, hundreds of empty tin beer cans rode, faced with each other.

It was in the ninety -long year. Today, Red Square is closed, and the premium drink is not the same. But every New Year's Eve, probably, remains in some historical skipping pocket, and there quietly rings.

The current one is also in the past - and, as always in such cases, it seems, has long ended, but the sound from the holiday freezes for a long time.

We will analyze it.

New Year's Eve, as Nadezhda Sheveleva from the Irony of Fate ..., I had a lot to ride-hope, if you remember (and weaken to be wise), returned home with a cake and with a hairstyle somewhere at eleven, and then moved over a ticket to her unexpected Leander at four hours-so I dangled around Moscow somewhere in this interval. The first thing that caught my eye: in Moscow before. We drove a platform on the "Square of the Revolution", and while the train tried to stop, slowed down and stretched, something unexpected caught in the eyes of a golden glow. That is, we are all accustomed to a dazzling nose of a bronze dog, and a nagan trunk in one of the monumental Red Army soldiers is still thoroughly filled.

But among the figures at the station there is also a collective farmer with a rooster. Quietly, a pleasant bronze woman with a bird lived quietly. But now the rooster shines like a pirate gold.

How, tell me how and when and what number of passers -by managed to grate the bird before sparkling and shine before the New Year? But - managed.

The second is women's festive clothing. Until now, instead of dresses on the floor on a festive night, skirts are put on the ceiling. Mini is preferred by maxi. This observation would have had an insignificant value, if not for the period, so to speak, field research at 30 years long. Since we in knitted mini-dresses have gone to battle for our perestroika men, nothing has changed. Women's liberation ideas offering women to carry themselves with the maximum (and not minimal) dignity did not take root. Meanwhile, the country was at least 25 years available to new ideas of any radical and strength. Nevertheless, in mass culture, the main clothing of the holiday is still legs.

If a small black dress is the armor of a modern warrior, then our girls are armed and naked at the same time. They go to the ring with a man to the same degree of defenselessness and security as a half -naked boxer: a drawing of each of your strokes is visible, but a trace of each blow received by you is also visible.

But this is the most important thing: sitting down on the New Year and a very New Year's metro, I expected a special, in excess of the usual, elegance and elegance of the crowd. Fun and some fraternity. Social variegation. Here, I thought, bearded hipsters with naked ankles will stand and laugh in fur moccasins and a girl of hipsters in a coat with a pezhon bag and scarves in a stop revolution, and possibly rush at each other with a serpentine and confetti. The lady in a mink fur coat is condescendingly grinning pranks of brilliant youth. The accountant in a mink fur coat wrinkles his face in a dissatisfied guzka, a working guy ... What will the working guy do? In general, this is what.

It was a night train of tired workers, poorly dressed, sitting, lowering the hands between the knees, not a metropolitan subway, but a suburban train.

On the train, hustling between marble and gilding, lean on plywood gear plywood traveled. Once a natural gypsy passed, tore an accordion and howled terribly: “Is I guilty?!” I seriously, it looked like a train in the Moscow metro at 23 hours and after 12 hours.

Homeless people rode to celebrate the holiday in public space. Little China, Little Vietnam, Little Uzbekistan, Little Kyrgyzstan. The beauty of the girls shocked briefly - oriental, decorative, as on the Soviet calendar "with Japanese". The girls, rightly, cashiers in the neighboring "Auchan" - we never look, we do not see the beauties of this Shamakhanskaya. I thought to myself: whether I will forget what I saw once - or in the spirit: “Look, and the hawthorn itself brings lunch!” - Will I always notice now? God knows him.

Why was the idea of ​​this text born? Too many wrote that the holiday ceased to be joyful. They said mainly about what gives rise to a feeling of passing the exam, failure. I crossed it - it’s so difficult, as if it was necessary to cross. It would seem that this is a long -standing philosophy of the New Year, but the joylessness of this exam has become obvious right now. The holiday moved in time - the main rod is still, of course, the circulation and fight of the chimes, but the main festive time was not after the battle, but to the preparation and the table.

Preparing, buying, cooking. There is still a holiday in this. We fry our fear, stew and seize.

The fear of the future and its denial (both a specially ordered state and nationwide internal) - as a fact, as a phenomenon - from the guess of the pen of Maria Stepanova, through the political science texts of Morozova, Schulman, through the folk psychology of Petranovskaya, reached the moral essays. This fear was obvious for a long time, but it is necessary to fix it. On the holiday it got out-if massive, Soviet aesthetics, postcards were published now, instead of a boy-a new year, which is always on sledges or skiing next to the old man, with frost, draw a black hole in a ski cap-2017, some kind of hostile whirlwinds, vodu-poutsan. Scary. One of the inhabitants of Facebook wrote: “I read in the store instead of“ Mass mass ” -“ Alarm mass ”. That's it.

As instead of this clothing and riding failure (the householders of their New Year complain that they traveled little, they bought it, they didn’t read it), this life exam that doesn’t give up, this hard firm fear would have benefited a comforting Christmas. It is an eternity in the middle of the room, it is about the fact that everything can be experienced, and what only all those who once a year were attached to pray near any Christmas tree, every vertep, every star.

But no, the New Year is with us. Recently I saw a correspondence - one of the newfangled girls who actively climb into a social elevator, shone my girlfriend: they say, why are you taking pictures near the inscription “Merry Christmas”, this is not our inscription, non -Russian inscription, and do you not know that Christmas is a western holiday, but in Russia it is not? In the status of a young idiot, it was noted that she was Orthodox.

New Year can only be transplanted. Trying to pass. And after you partially unwill with fear, try to understand something new. For example: What is the actual working class in Russia-2017? And is it really cool - to celebrate the New Year in the subway car, because you are frozen and tired and your friend froze and tired, because you cooked iron beds until 20 pm, and the train spins around the ring, and there are no more wagons in it. Nobody in all the unsuitable underground Moscow-2.