“Great rivers flow slowly…”
Metropolitan Philotheus
At the end of autumn, the Editorial Office of Elena Shubina published a new book by one of the most famous modern Russian writers - « Tobol. Many are invited" by Alexey Ivanov. It is only the first part of the novel-duology, the second is “Tobol. Few Chosen” should be released this spring. In anticipation of the continuation, we carefully read “Many Called,” which is slightly disappointing, but leaves hope.
Roman peplum
Alexey Ivanov's dilogy bears the mysterious name of a “peplum novel.” In fact, peplum is a genre of historical cinema with a predominant epic beginning, appeal to ancient and biblical stories, scale and battle. Some kind of extensive cinematic canvas like the film adaptation of “War and Peace”. In the case of Ivanov’s novel, a solid Latin word indicates that the novel was originally intended as a high-quality fictional script for the series. The first season of “Tobol” with Sergei Garmash in one of the main roles should be released this year.
Alexey Ivanov's novel is truly written like a script: the abundance of carefully written historical details creates the proper atmosphere, and the characters' dialogues literally beg to be shown on the big screen.
However, fans of the writer who read his “The Heart of Parma” and “The Gold of Rebellion” will be disappointed: the original mixture of genres characteristic of Ivanov is not present in the first book of “Tobol” - before us is just a good historical novel about life in the Siberian province in the era of Peter the Great’s reforms. “Tobol” is very similar to “Peter I” by Alexei Tolstoy, as a conservative historical novel, close to documentary literature. And it is also noticeably different from Ivanov’s other works, as if the writer with a rare Russian surname consciously limits himself, removes from his work everything that would indicate its author.
Life in Siberia: difficult and beautiful. Photo: , CC BY-SA 2.0
If Ivanov’s “epic” was shrouded in some kind of romantic mysticism, frightened with a mysterious dark taiga, where witches dance with bears to the pipe of a deceased shaman, attacked the reader with equally dark Finno-Ugric words like “tamga”, “kamlaniya” and “ittarma”, then “Tobol” immerses the reader more in the atmosphere of Peter’s Russia than in the wilds of the Siberian taiga. The language of the novel is also “Petrine”, and not “taiga” - the place of foreign parmas and khakans was taken by completely understandable “perspectives”, “caskets” and “architectons”.
Unfortunately, there is also no detective component or even a small intrigue in Tobol. The main mystery of the novel - whose corpse is Pyotr Lekseich kicking in the prologue and whose body hung on a chain in St. Petersburg for three years - can be solved by anyone who studied history at school.
Taiga mysticism
Ivanov’s main artistic method - history “superimposed” on geography - seems to remain unchanged in Tobol, however, the “taiga mysticism” that was generously poured throughout the pages of “The Heart of Parma” is almost absent in Tobolsk, and where there is , it is written much less subtly than in the Ural works of the writer. The dark shamanic magic of “Parma” and “The Gold of Rebellion” was always somewhere on the verge of sleep and trance, but it also enveloped the lives of the characters so that they sometimes seemed like puppets in the hands of dark taiga gods.
In “Tobol”, the pagan spirits of the Ostyaks and Voguls are already completely driven by the Orthodox baptists into the taiga wilds, they are almost absent, but if they show themselves, they do it rudely and clearly, without being embarrassed by people and without causing them surprise:
“Out of the smoke, a wobbly monstrous bird emerged - the Goose. Raising his wings and arching his neck, Goose reached out to the ruler. The hellbird's eyes glowed like coals. The goose opened its beak and breathed heat on the ruler, showering him with white ash, and then powerfully and loudly flapped its wings - each like a sail - soared into the air, shrouded in bright sparks. The fire of the fire freed itself from the oppressive darkness and soared, rushing up the tree trunk. The Smoke Goose flew over the clearing and disappeared into the sky, leaving misty strands in the void..."
Characters for the reader
And yet, despite all the conservatism of peplum, there is much in it that the reader may like. First of all, there are a large number of positive characters with whom the reader can sympathize and with whom he can associate himself. This is the classic image of the Russian - Vladyka Philotheus, who annually rafts down the Ob and explains to the pagans the advantages of the Orthodox faith, and Philotheus’s comrade-in-arms, the exiled Cossack intellectual Novitsky, and the patriarchal family of the Remezovs, which has much in common with the Rostovs from “War and Peace,” and the Ostyak prince Pantila Alacheev. And although the characters in the novel are not divided into “good” and “bad”, in general in the world of “Tobol” there is more good than evil, and even the predatory embezzler governor Gagarin sometimes looks like a strong owner and patron of the arts.
In the spring the snow will melt and the second part of the novel will be released - “Tobol. Few Chosen”. Photo: , CC BY 2.0
Most of the characters in Tobol, even episodic ones, are real people mentioned in historical documents, where Ivanov actually found them. A special place among them is occupied by Semyon Ulyanovich Remezov - in his youth a serving Cossack, and in his mature years an icon painter, an “architect”, as well as a cartographer, historiographer and ethnologist of Siberia - probably the author’s favorite character, an ideal Russian encyclopedist, the Siberian forerunner of Lomonosov, suffering only from the fact that his extensive knowledge is not in demand by his contemporaries.
Arrangement of figures
As a separate book, “Tobol” is simply a good historical novel that can be easily read despite its length, which should be included in the extracurricular reading program in order to interest schoolchildren in their native history, which will be a good script for an equally good series and which undoubtedly does not correspond to that , what was expected from a writer of Ivanov’s level.
The plot unites a huge number of heroes of different nationalities, religions and worldviews, but is still far from complete and suffers from repetitions, in which it is difficult to see any other purpose other than filling the semantic space: these are the annual raftings of Philotheus, which follow approximately the same pattern - the ruler saves the Ostyaks from misfortunes and offers to wait another year before being baptized - and almost identical escapes of Aikoni and Epiphania from the Remezovs’ compound, causing maximum damage to the latter. 
Tobolsk Drama Theater. Photo: , CC BY-SA 2.0
It is difficult to find some kind of second bottom in the book, a hidden author’s thought. In Tobol everything is on the surface. Here is Siberia as it was during the reign of Peter. Here are the Russian people who lived in it. Here are its indigenous tribes, their mentality and culture. If it’s interesting, keep reading; if it’s not interesting, put the book down.
One can only hope that Alexey Ivanov consciously limits his range of creativity, and “Many Called” is just an arrangement of figures, a smooth immersion of the reader into the world of semi-medieval Siberia. However, already in the spring book “The Chosen Few” all the threads will finally be tied into one, everything will be mixed up, and the guard fires will blaze and the shaman’s drums will be beaten.
Andrey Sinichkin, editor
“Tobol. Many are invited. Novel-peplum" by Alexei Ivanov (M.: AST, Edited by Elena Shubina) - the first half of the epic, 700 pages of Siberia during the times of Peter the Great. It is open from Stockholm to Beijing, from Solovki to Lhasa. It brings together the capital boyars, captive Swedes, Bukharian merchants, Chinese nobles, Old Believers, taiga tribes, monks of the Kiev-Pechersk Lavra, “new Russians” of the Peter the Great model and the builder of the Tobolsk Kremlin, compiler of the “Drawing Book of Siberia”, a titan who did not grow up at all in Tuscany, - Semyon Ulyanich Remezov. His knowledge includes Semyon Dezhnev's kochi in the Pacific Ocean, the fire-breathing mountains of Kamchatka and Atlasov's Cossack detachment, the ruins of Mangazeya, petroglyphs on the rocks of the Irtysh, Scythian gold of burial mounds, tea and emeralds of Chinese caravans... Alexey Ivanov answered questions from Novaya Gazeta about Tobol .
— ALexey, why - Tobolsk? Are you leaving the Urals for Siberia?
- Everything is much more prosaic. The production company invited me to write a script for a series about the Tobolsk cartographer, chronicler and architect Semyon Remezov. His figure has long been known and interesting to me. And I’m also interested in working in a drama series format, like those produced by HBO or AMC, and this format gives rise to a new type of novel, a modern novel. For the sake of the new format, I accepted the offer, expecting to immediately make a script for the producers and a novel for myself. The Urals are still close to me, but other regions also fascinate me.
— Do you “go” to Siberia “for one story”?
— Most likely, “I’m going into one story.” Although this sounds wrong, because there are many plots in this novel, and the entire project will take 3 years. I generally work on projects that can be applied to a certain territory. “Yoburg” and “Bad weather” - Yekaterinburg. “The Ridge of Russia” and “Mining Civilization” - the Urals. “Pitchfork” is the territory of the Pugachev region, including the Orenburg region, Bashkortostan, Tatarstan and the Lower Volga region. A specific territory always sets certain parameters for a work that determine language, tempo, imagery and cultural background.
— Your “philosophy of the Urals” is spelled out in the “Ural Matrix.” In “Tobol” you see through the history of Governor Gagarin, the architect Remezov and the Ostyak woman Aikoni, the emergence of the “philosophy of Siberia”. So?
- No, I didn’t have such ambitions. In this case, the drama series format is more important to me than the regional identity. It’s just that, using the example of the Urals, I figured out for myself how regional cultural complexes are structured, and I can immediately identify this structure in new material. So, probably, a doctor meets a person with whom he is going, for example, to have a drink, and immediately understands: “Myopia, hypertension, osteochondrosis.” Having become acquainted with the history of Siberia during the Peter the Great era, I immediately saw its “nerves” and understood who was the bearer of the spirit of history: embezzlers, Swedes, pagans, missionaries, newly baptized people, Chinese, schismatics and Dzungars. Siberia of that time consists of these “details”. The choice of heroes is determined by the specifics of the territory, and the heroes live as they should according to their identity.
— What do you think about today’s economic idea of “turning to the East”? How did you relate the novel to her?
“I didn’t relate the novel to any idea, and when I was writing, it was funny for me to see the sudden hope for China - as if the novel was echoing on TV. But that's just a coincidence. I like the idea of friendship, or rather, close cooperation with the East. It's always good to be friends and always bad to be enemies. But we will not be able to become related to the East. This is not our mental nature, and it will never become ours. I wrote about this in “Pitchfork”, not in “Tobol”. The main value in Europe is freedom, in Russia freedom is also a value, but not the main one, and in the East it is not a value at all. Therefore, Russia is a version of Europe, and genetically we do not interbreed with Asia. "West is West, East is East."
— Russia and Siberia in “Tobol” are cruel and harsh. Life itself is almost unbearable there. We cannot stand the walking route of prisoners and exiles, Swedes and Old Believers. And you also drag into the plot the story of the extermination of the city of Baturin by Peter’s troops and the story of the siege of Solovki by the “Nikonians”... Is this an “ancient atrocity” common to all countries? Or part of our gene code?
- I guess I won’t agree with you. Life in Siberia in those days, of course, was harsh, but it could not be called unbearable. It was much worse for Shalamov in Kolyma. It was always difficult for exiles, forced laborers and explorers, but ordinary residents of Siberia in the old days never went hungry. The heroes of the novel, who died a natural death, lived quite a long time: Filofey - 77 years, Remezov - 78. If Siberia had been hard labor, Stolypin would not have promoted the policy of resettlement. Let me remind you that in 1913, grain exports from Siberia exceeded grain exports from European Russia. It’s always cold in the North, and the middle zone and south of Siberia are no worse than the Yaroslavl or Ryazan regions. In general, the “torturous nature” of Siberia is a myth. But “ancient atrocity” is terrible. However, it is not exclusive to Russia. Before the Enlightenment, morals were everywhere brutal, and even then tensions remained with humanism.
— They say that Russia, unlike the British Empire and the United States, did not exterminate a single indigenous people. How do you evaluate this opinion? And if we express in one phrase the “Ostyak theme” in “Tobol” - what is it?
— Yes, Russia did not exterminate foreigners, although it oppressed and robbed them. And under Russian rule, the number of foreigners increased. However, this is not a matter of Russia’s love of humanity. Firstly, there was enough space for everyone in Siberia. Secondly, Russia was interested in foreigners. They weren't even accepted as recruits. Foreigners supplied Russia with furs, and furs were the main export product. To obtain fur, you need to lead a very difficult lifestyle. Farming is still easier than fishing. It is more productive, and therefore more profitable and reliable. In Siberia, too, the Russians preferred to engage in what was familiar to them - agriculture, and let the foreigners, whose traditional way of life was “tailored” to this, do the fishing, so they were left alone as far as possible. The Americans, for example, did not particularly need furs; in the New World, settlers immediately began to establish factories and agriculture based on slave labor, and why then did the Americans need Indians? In short, Russia's peacefulness is explained by the weak development of the productive forces. If Siberia had been developed not in a peasant way, but in an industrial way, the foreigners would have been nothing but fluff. And the theme of the Ostyaks in the novel was formulated by Remezov: “You are a toy for every powerful person.”
Artistic concept for the film “Tobol”: Sergey Alibekov — Governor Gagarin has a whole philosophy of embezzlement. No one in Tobol can do without this... Did understanding Siberia in the times of Peter the Great give you something to understand today's Russia?
— Governor Gagarin, of course, is a thief, but he is a passionary. His theft comes from human insolence, and not from banal greed. He uses his high position not to put his hand into the treasury, but to set up his own business, which is, of course, illegal. For him, the treasury is just a bank that issues interest-free loans. In the second book, Gagarin will explain to Peter, who accuses him of theft: “I drew from the well that I dug myself.” He is similar to the “guild workers” of the Soviet era, who, it is clear, are criminals, but not exactly thieves.
The “voivodeship” and “governor” periods of the history of Siberia and Russia are very different. “Vivodeship” customs are “extortion”, bribery, when each official takes for himself as much as he can. “Governor’s” customs are already a hierarchically organized system, that is, corruption, when each official gives the boss a certain bribe in order to be able to take for himself how much is left. Corruption, or rather the extent of its prevalence, is a derivative of the police state. Peter built a police state, replacing banal extortion with complexly organized corruption. Governor Gagarin, “the chick of Petrov’s nest,” actively helped build this state because he was a corrupt official. But he understood that the richer people would live in the new system, the more active trade would be, the more benefits he would receive. Gagarin's progressive role lies in this understanding. As Mishka Yaponchik said in the film “Deja Vu”: “Mafia? I wish we had it!” The entire mechanics of the transition process from governors to governors and from theft to corruption is perfectly described in the monograph by historian Mikhail Akishin “Police State and Siberian Society. The era of Peter the Great." So these are not homegrown conclusions.
— The history of the development of Siberia is no less difficult and interesting than the “ship voyages” from Columbus to Cook. Why is this geographical feat not appreciated even at home? Why didn’t Siberia give birth to a school of adventure novels in Russia?
— And Siberia is no exception to the rule. What adventure novels are there about Pomors? What about the conquest of Central Asia? What about Novgorod and Pskov? What about the internal wars of Russia - for example, about the bloody Orenburg expedition or the monstrous Kuban raid? All quality entertainment mainly revolves around kings and emperors. This is Russian servility to power, when it seems that there is nothing interesting outside the shadow of the throne. And Russia itself is boring. Of course, breakthroughs happen. I remember with what horror and delight I read “The Evil Spirit of Yambuya” by Fedoseev - about a cannibal bear that attacked a party of topographers. But what is written is in many ways morally outdated. In general, Russia does not know itself... and does not want to know. Who cares about the Poles marching on Solvychegodsk or the construction of the Dead Road - this is not Moscow. The Moscow-centric nature of life also gives rise to the cultural impoverishment of the country outside the capital. And new genres are formed on new material. If the material is a priori considered rotten, there is no point in waiting for some Russian Western.
— What role does “architect” Semyon Remezov play in the novel?
— Unites all lines into a common system. Remezov is the main expert on Siberia, and Siberia is a specific region. Each hero has his own plans, one way or another connected with Siberia, and therefore each hero goes to Remezov for advice or help. Remezov is the conductor of this orchestra. He indirectly leads the processes of “true” Siberia, because he knows how it works, and Governor Gagarin leads the processes of reformed Siberia, because he has power and passion. And Remezov’s relationship with the governor is a duel between the poet and the tsar, when both are creators. Only the climax occurs in the second part of the novel. So far, the poet and the tsar are only exchanging friendly blows, sympathizing with each other.
Artistic concept for the film “Tobol”: Sergey Alibekov — It seems that the novel is very unfocused. Not the story of one hero, like “The Gold of Rebellion” and “Bad Weather,” but a polyphony of dozens of destinies? Which one is the main character? And who is your favorite?
- The way it is. The novel has a dozen main characters, whose destinies are interdependent and alternately intertwine and diverge. The reason is precisely the format.
I already said that the new novel comes from the drama series. What is its essence? It can be analyzed using the example of the most successful work - “Game of Thrones”. I will talk about the film, and not about Martin’s epic, because the example of the film makes it clearer. A drama series is always composed of several paradigms, artistic systems, one might say genres. Moreover, two of these paradigms are always antagonistic, that is, they have not been combined before. Organically combining them is a postmodern achievement. In The Game, such paradigms are fantasy and historical naturalism. Fantasy is fiction; historicity is true. Fantasy is a high genre; naturalism is low, almost trash. It wouldn’t hurt to have a third paradigm—an alien one. In “The Game,” such a paradigm turns out to be the video sequence itself—the best nature of the world. The travel guide genre can be considered a foreign paradigm in this film; this is not a feature film genre. In literature, anything can serve as such an alien paradigm: in “The Name of the Rose” it is semiotics, in “The Da Vinci Code” it is conspiracy theory.
And in “Tobol” I have heroes from different paradigms and genres, that’s why there are a lot of them. Pagans and missionaries are from mysticism; the Chinese and the governor - from a political detective story; officers and Dzungars are from the military genre, and so on. And the alien paradigm is, let’s say, “alternative history” - the main conflict of the novel: the governor’s conspiracy with the Chinese for a “private”, “unauthorized” war against the Dzungars.
The drama series, as a new format, has one more feature: a change in the status of ethics. The syncretism of the format eliminates the heavy moral lesson that is typical of traditional literature. Ethics here has the status of entertainment, just as in infotainment news is understood as entertainment. Therefore, all heroes are right, even villains and thieves, and all faiths are true: the reader sees the world through the eyes of an Orthodox, Muslim, schismatic, Protestant and pagan. However, “multipolarity” does not lead to relativism: the reader does not forget “what is good and what is bad.”
The new format was, of course, not invented by the directors of Game of Thrones. It was invented by the titans of culture of the second half of the twentieth century: Eco, Marquez, Fowles, Suskind. The directors simply translated the achievements of the titans into the mainstream. And we got the final product of postmodernism, which, it turns out, does not destroy tradition, but develops it, and, moreover, preserves its humanistic essence. And what we call postmodernism is only an intermediate phase in the evolution of postmodernity, declared the finish line.
Working in a new format is a most exciting artistic challenge. And the amazing history of Peter’s reforms in Siberia provided me with excellent material for such work. And it’s not at all a matter of who I love more, the Urals or Siberia, mom or dad.
— When will the second volume of “Tobol” be released?
— By autumn 2017.
— You said a year ago that the novel was part of the project. There will also be a documentary book and an 8-episode film... Right?
— Between the first and second books of “Tobol”, that is, at the end of winter of this year, a non-fiction book will be published - the book “Wilds” about Voivodeship Siberia - the history of Russian statehood in Siberia from the time of Ermak to the time of Peter. In “The Wilds” I will simply talk about those events that are mentioned in the novel, so that those who wish to have, so to speak, a documentary context. A novel is a novel, and there are deviations from history. Small, but there. For example, in the novel, Metropolitan Philotheus learns about the death of Bishop John on a missionary trip through the taiga, but in reality at that time he was in the Kiev Pechersk Lavra. It doesn't change anything, but still. Deviations are dictated not by the author’s ignorance, but by dramatic expressiveness.
In the historical genre, the main task of the author is to create an image of the era, and to create this image, dramaturgy is necessary, which sometimes moves a little away from history. It's okay, because history should be studied from textbooks, not novels. A novel becomes historical when the actions of the characters are determined by the historical process, and it does not matter that there are discrepancies with textbooks or, for example, fragments of fantasy. Therefore, for example, “The Three Musketeers” is not a historical novel, but an adventure novel, since its heroes are motivated by love, friendship, honor, and not by the struggle of Catholics with the Huguenots and not by relations between England and France. And my novel “The Heart of Parma” (although it is immodest to talk about myself) is historical, and not fantasy, because the heroes act as the era requires, and not their personal preferences and not the author’s preferences. Not understanding this essence of the genre is unprofessional.
The eight-episode film “Tobol” is already in production. A set is being built in Tobolsk - the Remezov estate; after filming, this set will become the property of the museum. Director: Igor Zaitsev. Not all the actors have been confirmed yet, but it is known that Dmitry Nazarov will play Remezov, and Dmitry Dyuzhev will play Peter I. Filming will begin in March 2017. The film should be ready by the end of 2018. It will be shown in 2019 on one of the federal channels; Channel One has already expressed its interest. In addition, a full-length film will be made based on the series, a kind of Russian Eastern film, and it will be released at the box office.
- Why do you (so knowing and understanding church art, Siberian hagiography, having so tenderly painted the image of Vladika Philotheus) ... always write the word “God” in prose with a lowercase letter?
— Because faith is not about complicating spelling. I write secular texts, and “God” with a capital, in my opinion, is only appropriate in church literature or in texts by clergy. Under normal circumstances, such petty servility looks a little like an old woman's. It’s unlikely that God likes it when someone’s forehead is broken in bows for his sake.
A new book by Alexei Ivanov, “Tobol. Few Chosen,” has gone on sale, the second part of an epic work (the first part was called “Many Called”) about how the reforms of Peter I plowed up Siberia. Konstantin Milchin - about how the Ural writer ran out of soul.
Once the writer Alexey Ivanov was walking around Perm and met the devil. The evil one immediately offered a deal: let Ivanov give him his soul, and in return the devil will give him the talent to write brilliant prose. Ivanov agreed, they concluded an agreement with which everyone was satisfied. The devil chuckled because he knew that without a soul, writing talent is worth little. Ivanov also chuckled: he knew, as an expert in the legends of the Khanty and Mansi, that he had not one soul, but five. I gave away one, but the other four will last for a long time.
The devil kept his word. From Ivanov’s pen, stunning novels began to appear one after another: the magical “The Heart of Parma” and “The Gold of Rebellion”, the realistic “The Geographer Drank His Globe Away” (successfully, by the way, filmed), the underrated, although no less brilliant “Fornication and Mudo” ", slightly less successful, but still amazing "Bad Weather". And a few more books in the non-fiction genre (damn was generous).
As befits a resident of the Ural region, Ivanov spent his remaining souls thriftily and pragmatically. But the devil, as luck would have it, also turned out to be from the Urals, meticulous and hardworking. And I finally got to Ivanov’s last soul just when he began writing the novel “Tobol.”
Old Ivanov put all his remaining souls into his texts, rediscovered the Urals for Russia and, choking with delight, shared with the reader unknown episodes of the history of our country and his beloved region. In his place came Ivanov 2.0, an excellent master of his craft, a cold, detached novelist who came to Siberia, looked at her like a proprietor and decided that she was worthy of his pen.
The new Ivanov skillfully weaves intrigue and retells relatively well-known stories with a patronizing intonation. One cannot raise one’s hand to scold this book: the devil keeps his agreement, Ivanov is still as magnificent as a storyteller. But finding enthusiastic words about the novel “Tobol. Few Chosen” is no less difficult.
So, before us is the second and, it seems, the last part of a great historical prose. XVIII century, Tobolsk and surroundings.
The governor of Siberia, Matvey Gagarin, not only stole, but also secretly conspired with the Chinese. The Russian detachment of Colonel Buchgoldts set out to conquer Kashgar, but was surrounded on the territory of what is now Kazakhstan by the Dzungars, lost almost all of its forces, did not surrender to the enemy, but was forced to retreat. The captured Swedish officer Renat dreams of escaping with his beloved Brigitte from Russian captivity. The cunning Bukharan Kasim weaves intrigues, and the priests baptize the Ostyaks. Semyon Remezov is building a fortress in Tobolsk.
The fates of two dozen characters are intertwined with a complex set of sympathies and contradictions; the happiness of some means the painful death of others. Everyone will die, everyone will rot in the ground, but the Tobolsk Kremlin still stands to this day.
Again, this is very skillful writing. Ivanov can, in one paragraph, as if casually, retell the content and background of Vasily Perov’s painting “Nikita Pustosvyat. Dispute about faith,” without even naming the painting itself. And this is very useful: the reader will go to a museum and there he will immediately recognize the plot and figure out what’s what. Even operated on and gutted by the devil, Ivanov is still strong in describing nature:
“Winter stopped hiding: it no longer sent scouts into cellars, attics and barns, did not organize quiet night raids, it came during the day - everywhere, wide and open.<…>Winter densely filled the city, like a boat is loaded with supplies for a long journey."
Or, through the lips of a Swede, explain how in Russia Siberia and the state of the economy and politics are closely interconnected in any period of our history:
“Siberia supplies the treasury with furs, that is, with gold. And this circumstance provides Russia with the opportunity to differ from Europe. Russia has no need to acquire gold in exchange for the fruits of its economy, so it can maintain its economy in an untouched ancient order. If not for the furs of Siberia, the Russians "The tsars would have to, like European monarchs, free the peasants from serfdom and allow manufacturing. Siberia is the key to understanding Russia."
However, it's not just that. In old novels dedicated to Perm and the surrounding area, Ivanov turned a normal, interesting, but generally ordinary Russian region into a wonderful country. The novels were equal to or even greater than the region. But Tobolsk with its Kremlin is an incredible miracle in itself. Much more than the novel itself.
“Tobol. Few are chosen" is the second book of Alexey Ivanov's peplum novel "Tobol". The bizarre threads of human destinies, stretched through the first book of the novel, are now tied into knots.
The reforms of Tsar Peter plowed up Siberia, and everyone who was “called” to these free lands believes: were they “chosen” by Siberia? Fugitive schismatics are erecting their fiery Ship - but will the souls of those who cursed themselves on earth ascend to heaven? Russian regiments go for gold to the distant Asian city of Yarkand - but will they overcome the expanse of the steppes and the resistance of the Dzungar hordes? The stubborn metropolitan makes his way to the sacred idol of foreigners through the evil darkness of taiga paganism. The Tobolsk architect, using secret signs of antiquity, rescues from captivity the one whom he hates with all his heart. The all-powerful Siberian governor finds himself in the clutches of the sovereign, who must decide what is more important: his own pride or the interests of the state?
…The stories of individual people are intertwined into the overall history of the country. And the history of the country is driven by the force of a fierce struggle between the old and the new. And its deep energy is the tension of the eternal dispute between the Poet and the Tsar.
Chapter 1
Pietists
No one in Tobolsk would give up an entire square for the Swedes, so they gathered in a vacant lot behind the Cossack Vzvoz. Four hundred Carolines - subjects of King Charles XII - sat in uneven rows on the steep slope of Panin Hill, as if on the steps of an ancient amphitheater. In fact, there were much more captured Swedes in Tobolsk - about a thousand, but not everyone was able to come. But those who came prepared for the holiday: soldiers and officers wore camisoles and hats with braids, servants tied bows on their elbows, women put on lace aprons and caps with ribbons. Today was the king's birthday. Charles XII turned thirty years old.
Behind the Cossack Vzvoz, on the cliff, the jagged walls and square towers of the Sofia Court, the toy fortress of the Siberian metropolitan, whitened. The warm June wind carried light clouds across the sky, their shadows silently ran along the streets and plank roofs of the Russian city, along the smooth green slopes of the Alafei Mountains; The fortress either flashed with bright whiteness, then faded, as if ready to disappear. This is how the bonds of captivity will one day disappear, opening up a free road for the Carolinians to their homeland. But we had to live until then.
Captain Kurt Friedrich von Wrech, alderman of the Swedish community in Tobolsk, looked at the faces of his comrades with sincere sympathy. Yes, it was not easy for the Carolinians in Russian captivity. But the captain will do his best to ensure that the king’s subjects do not lose heart. Von Wrech prided himself on his nobility in adversity. Small, plump and short-sighted, he could not prove himself in battle, but he could show his fortitude in helping his neighbors.
Corporal Broer Rolamb, the community poet, read aloud to the Carolinians his new ode, composed for the anniversary. The corporal held the piece of paper with the text in his left hand, and waved his right hand widely above his head. In the odes of Mr. Rolambe there were always crowned lions, Jupiter, storms and lightning, the thunder of cannons, formidable armies, sparkling bayonets, banners and victorious kettledrums. Captain Leonard Kag sat at a distance from Rolambe on a chair - many officers had brought or brought chairs with them - and listened attentively, wondering whether it would be worthwhile to copy these poems into the community diary; The captain kept a diary on behalf of the alderman. Von Wrech took off his hat and nodded his head in a shabby wig in agreement with the stanzas. The officers understood how much ordinary people needed these unprepossessing verses, and demonstrated seriousness. There were about a dozen officers in the community leadership; Colonel Arvid Kulbash, captains Otto Stackelberg, Johan Tabbert and Henrik Svenson, lieutenants Gustav Horn, Peter Palm and Johan Matern came to the meeting.
The affairs of the captured Swedes were handled by the Feldt Commissariat in Moscow, in the German Settlement. It was headed by the old Count Karl Pieper, head of the camp office of King Charles; he was captured near Poltava. Through the Feldt-Commissariat, money for prisoners came into the depths of Russia: half salary from the Riksdag, assistance from relatives, loans from Princess Ulrika Eleonora and benefactors from nobles.
Money was always in short supply, and Captain von Wrech found another source of financial support. The von Wrech family estate needed a good manager, so von Wrech, a caring father, even before the war with Russia, sent his son to receive education in the city of Halle in Prussia, at the pedagogium of Professor August Franke. The children studied there all day long, wore blue uniforms, had no stupid entertainment, days off or vacations, grew up obedient, pious and hardworking, and the graduates were well versed in farming and crafts. The reason for such successes was the doctrine of Pietism, which Professor Franke followed.
In Halle, Kurt von Wrech became familiar with the basics of this teaching, and when fate brought him to Tobolsk, von Wrech realized that pietism was very suitable for surviving in captivity, allowing him to maintain a pious way of thinking and lead a virtuous lifestyle. Von Wrech wrote a letter to the University of Halle, where Professor Franke taught oriental languages, saying that the Tobolsk community of Swedish prisoners of war had decided to take the principles of Pietism as a model for its charter; Could not the powerful Pietist school of Mr. Franke help like-minded people with money and wise leadership? A year later, a parcel of books and a money order arrived from the University of Halle. Translations from the professor became regular.
- Dear friends! - Kurt von Wrech said to those who were sitting on the green slope of Panin Hill. “I want to read you the wonderful words of Dr. Franke, which should guide us in our exile,” von Wrech took the professor’s letter from his pocket and unfolded it before his eyes: “By the will of fate, you found yourself among the barbarians, far from your homeland and the king, but you should not give in to despondency and sorrow. Tireless work for the benefit of a fellow sufferer, moral life and the dissemination of knowledge and morality among the barbarians is your prayer and your high educational mission!”
Von Wrech became emotional, put the letter away and dabbed his eyes with a handkerchief.
Bayonet Junker Johan Renat sat in the grass among the Swedes, chewed on a straw, listened to von Wrech and thought that everything was wrong: neither Mr. Alderman nor Mr. Professor would help him. Renat worked for some Russian at a saw mill, hauled logs and boards with a hook, received pennies, but hard, righteous work did not console him. He wanted to go home. He wanted to do what he loved and knew how to do - shoot guns. He wanted a woman.
Renat looked cautiously at Brigitte, the wife of the soldier Michael Ziems. Brigitte sat nearby - a little lower and half turned, she watched her husband. Tsims worked as a hookman on the pier and got drunk almost every evening. Even now he came with a flask and took a sip from the neck. Brigitte was afraid that drunken Michael would disgrace the entire community. And Renata was irresistibly drawn to look at Brigitte - beautiful, but gloomy. There was something very exciting about her dependence on Tsims' cattle.
“Michael!..” Brigitte whispered with hostility.
“Shut up,” Zims replied.
Von Wrech conferred with the officers and addressed the meeting again.
- Friends! – he said loudly. – As you know, the royal episcopate does not approve of prayer meetings outside the walls of churches, but for us, deprived of our homeland, the word of the shepherd and holy communion are very important. Therefore, Dr. Franke agreed to grant our request. The doctor and the community sent us eight hundred riksdalers to establish a church. Mr. Governor assured that he had no objections and allocated a plot of city land.
The meeting buzzed with excitement.
“I think that our battalion pastor, Mr. Gabriel Larius, should write a letter of gratitude to Professor Franke,” said Colonel Arvid Kulbash, the most senior in rank among the Carolinas of Tobolsk, without getting up from his chair. - And we will all put our signatures.
“An excellent proposal, Herr Colonel,” von Wrech approved.
“Mr. Alderman,” Lieutenant Karl Leonskiöld asked from the ranks, “the news about the church is encouraging, but has the winter salary been delivered?”
In captivity, only officers received payments from the Riksdag, and lower ranks and servants were supposed to seek their own income. However, many officers, and Leonskiöld too, organized free lunches for their poor comrades, so the delivery of salaries was of interest to everyone.
“The money has arrived,” said Captain Otto Stackelberg, the community’s treasurer.
– And one more announcement! – von Wrech waited for silence. - It will be done by Mr. Jochim Dittmer, the secretary of Mr. Governor.
Dittmer rose from his chair and, smiling, adjusted his hat.
“Mr. Governor Prince Gagarin asked me to tell you the following,” Dittmer spoke quietly, confident that he would be heard. “His Excellency will give our community a thousand riksdalers from his own funds to expand the school if we accept Russian children for education.”
- Russians? Russians? – the Carolines muttered in surprise.
There were many children in the convoys of the Swedish army. Some soldiers and junior officers took their families with them to the war in Russia, because without breadwinners the families had nothing to live on in Sweden. Families were also captured. In Tobolsk, the busy von Wrech ordered all the children to be registered and opened a school for them. The Swedes built the house for the school themselves, the alderman begged for firewood from Chief Commandant Bibikov, and Professor Franke sent the teachers’ salaries. The teachers were educated officers.
Lieutenant Johan Matern rose from the ranks of the Carolinas.
“If there are Russians in our school, then education will have to be conducted in Russian,” Matern was a garrison fortifier and taught drawing at the school. – But I don’t speak Russian well. Will I be suspended?
– Russians don’t know the Reformation, we have different churches! - Lieutenant Peter Palm supported Matern, he also taught at the school.
“Sacred history, my son, is the same for all branches of Christianity,” Pastor Larius reasonably objected.
– We are not missionaries! – Lieutenant Gustav Horn shouted from the ranks. At home in Kalmar, he was a jeweler, and at von Wrech's school he taught calligraphy classes; but Russians will not need Swedish calligraphy. – Why do we need Russians?
“This is a good deed, and it pleases the Almighty,” von Wrech said softly.
Dittmer, without saying anything, sat down on a chair and crossed his legs. He still smiled calmly, as if he knew how this argument would end.
The bayonet cadet Renat did not listen to the argument about the Caroline school. Soldier Tsims got completely drunk and, grumbling something under his breath, began to fall sideways onto Renat. Brigitte silently tried to seat him back so that no one would notice that Tsims was drunk. Renat would have disdainfully thrown off Tsims, but he did not want to be rude in front of Brigitte, and therefore he also silently helped her. He did not understand how, for Zims, meaningless swill could be more interesting than this woman.
“Excuse me, Mr. Junker,” Brigitte said quietly.
She saw the hungry, albeit hidden attention of this young officer. Of course, now he imagined her in his bed, men always think about that. But Brigitte did not feel embarrassed. Her shameful secret was her husband’s drunkenness, and the officer had already learned this secret. This means that he can now imagine intimacy, as if he had crossed some sacred line.
Captain Tabbert decided to intervene in the Caroline dispute. He was confident in his arguments. He stood up, pulled his doublet down and stepped forward.
- Gentlemen, let me tell you too. Do you mind, Kurt? – Tabbert looked politely at von Vrech, and he nodded favorably. - Gentlemen! You all came here to Tobolsk with your own feet, and you know from your own experience how great Russia is. It will be difficult for King Charles to defeat such a country, and the war will not end very soon. These years we will all need Russian. Let us, therefore, take the trouble of learning this speech, and not deprive our children of the advantage of knowing their rival.
– Brilliant, my Tabbert! – von Wrech clapped his hands.
The Carolinas made a restrained noise, discussing Tabbert's words.
Lieutenant Svante Inborg, the head of the artel that was building a new house for Gagarin, sedately took out his pipe from under his gray mustache and asked:
- Mr. Secretary Dittmer, if the Russian governor is so rich that he is building a school, wouldn’t he want to build himself another house?
The people around Lieutenant Inborg laughed good-naturedly. The Carolines were jealous of Inborg's artel, because the governor paid generously for his palace, and many workers were still carrying out Mr. Gagarin's orders: cornet Johan Bari and Lieutenant Gustav Horn, jewelers, made settings for the precious stones that Gagarin bought; cornet Johan Shkruf made silverware; Captain Adolf Kunow and Lieutenant Karl Leonskiöld drew playing cards; Captain Georg Malin carved chess pieces and molds for stucco; Cornet Ennes Barthold printed patterns on canvas wallpaper for the governor's house.
Von Vreh rose to his feet again and straightened his sword.
– Friends, let me consider the issue with the Russian school resolved. As the alderman of our community, I appoint a commission to reorganize the school: Colonel Arvid Kulbash, Captains Johan Tabbert and Otto Stackelberg, Fenric Georg Sternhof and our pastor Gabriel Larius. And now let us together offer a prayer for the health and victory of King Charles.
The Carolines stood up and took off their hats. The meeting ended.
Secretary Dittmer, having said goodbye to the officers, went to his gig, which was parked at a distance on the street, and Lorenz Lang, a very young lieutenant of the engineering corps, caught up with him. He didn’t even have time to fight - he was captured along with his headquarters. Lorenz sincerely admired Dittmer's position under the governor and saw no other career than with the Russians.
“Mr. Secretary,” Lang asked excitedly, “did you find out?”
“Yes, Mr. Lang,” Dittmer smiled patronizingly, climbing into the gig. - Mr. Governor said that you may well enter the Russian service, but for this you must take an oath.
-Did you take the oath? – For some reason Lang was offended and blushed.
“I’m not in Russian service,” Dittmer answered with dignity. - I am in the service of the prince as a private person.
Dittmer moved his horse and rode off, leaving the embarrassed Lang alone.
The Carolines were leaving. Brigitte, crouching down, shook Tsims to bring him to his senses and take him home. Tsims grunted and pushed his wife away. Brigitte was flushed, a thin strand of hair escaping from under her cap. Renat couldn't stand it.
“I’ll help,” he said dryly.
He stepped towards Tsims, grabbed him tightly under the arm and jerked him to his feet. Brigitte supported her husband on the other hand.
“Let me go!” Tsims wheezed. - I'm tired, Swedish whore!..
“Forgive him, Mr. Junker,” Brigitte said inscrutably.
- Come to your senses, soldier! – Renat barked quietly and furiously.
- I'll help you get it home.
- It's close, Mr. Junker.
- Who is he? – without thinking, Tsims wheezed. -Who did you pick up, whore?
Brigitte and Tsims, indeed, lived not far from Panin's hill. They lived on a large Russian farmstead in a cramped room next to the cowshed. Renat dragged the staggering Tsims to the right gate and dragged the soldier into the yard. There was a cow in the middle of the yard; sitting on a bench, a Russian woman milked her. She looked back at Renat, Brigitte and Tsims with displeasure.
“Throw your pig into the stall, girl,” she said.
Renat and Brigitte dumped Tsims on a hay bed in a cow stall. Renat shook himself off, went out and nodded to the woman by the cow as a sign of gratitude. Brigitte straightened her cap and apron and went to see Renat off.
Renat stopped on the street at the gate, he frowned and did not look at Brigitte. He didn’t want to part with her, but he couldn’t find a reason to linger. Brigitte understood the young officer's confusion.
“Thank you, Mr. Junker,” she said, examining Renat.
– Johan Gustav Renat. At your service, Mrs. Zims.
- I know your name. After all, we walked here together to Siberia.
“I remember you too, Mrs. Zims,” Renat admitted reluctantly.
Brigitte smiled tiredly and made a kind of curtsy.
- Brigitte Christina, soldier's wife.
Renat hesitated and still looked into Brigitte’s eyes.
– Why do you tolerate such treatment from your spouse?
Brigitte did not lower her gaze.
“Because Tsims is my only support,” she said firmly.
- However, calling you a corrupt woman...
Now Brigitte turned away. Even carts rarely passed along this outlying foothill street, and the street was overgrown with cheerful grass. A white goat with her kids was browsing grass under a massive fence made of lying logs. The evening sun generously painted the wide slopes of the roofs a honey color. Steep green slopes rose above the roofs, and above them the crowns of trees shone in the sky, as if on the steep slopes of Stenshuvud. But this was not Stenshoewood, not native Skåne, not Sweden. And this young officer is just a bored man for whom the Russian city of Tobolsk is the most difficult test.
“Because I am a corrupt woman, Mr. Renat,” Brigitte answered calmly. – Tsims is already my third husband. I'm getting married for my own well-being. All the best, Mr. Bayonet Junker.
At this time, Captain Tabbert and Kurt von Wrech were driving a droshky to the alderman's house: von Wrech invited Tabbert to a late lunch. Von Vrech lived quite richly - money was sent to him from the estate in Halland. The droshky slowly rolled along crooked streets past solid Siberian dams, as if in a shallow trench with a trampled bottom and wooden walls. We came across water carrier carts with barrels and servicemen with sabers at their sides. Along the edge of the street there were plank pavements on scaffolds; along them, so as not to interfere with the carts and horsemen, walked the townspeople: women with rocker arms, bearded men in shirts and hats, Tatars in colored robes. Only boys and dogs ran wherever they wanted, not recognizing any rules.
“My dear Tabbert,” said von Wrech, “I want to ask you a favor.” I have already bought a house for the church. It is located not far from here in a village, but it must be dismantled into logs and floated to the city along this river.
“It’s called Irtysh,” Tabbert suggested condescendingly.
– These clumsy names are not for the language of a European... The entire community would be grateful to you if you took charge of the work to move this building. Lieutenant Inborg, alas, is busy right now.
“Okay, I’ll do the job,” Tabbert nodded. “But are you sure, Kurt, that the church is what our comrades need?”
“It is absolutely necessary, dear Tabbert,” von Wrech said with conviction. – Sermons are the best way to convey the ideas of pietism to people.
- It does not matter. Agree, dear Tabbert: in order to preserve the dignity of the citizens of a great state, in this Russian wilderness we must observe certain rules of life. They're pretty simple. You cannot grumble and grieve, but you must consider your poverty a blessing. You need to work hard. You can't lose touch with the Lord. We must remember the king. You should spread your knowledge and beliefs among the local peoples in order to soften their morals with development, including for your own well-being. But these rules constitute the essence of the pietistic teaching.
“You’re probably right, Kurt,” Tabbert agreed after thinking and pulled his hat over his eyes so that the sun wouldn’t blind him.
– By the way, I’m going to open a pharmacy at school soon.
“Dear Kurt, you will soon surpass St. Francis himself,” Tabbert chuckled. “But I’m afraid that the Russians won’t appreciate it.”
“My work is not for gratitude, but to make the world a better place,” von Wrech admitted with secret pride. “I’m sure the king wants this too.”
“In any case, I want to,” Tabbert said ironically.
He debated whether he should talk to Kurt about his plan.
“Listen, Kurt,” he finally decided. “You understand that I am capable of more significant accomplishments than transporting peasant shacks.” Therefore, in turn, I also want to ask you for help.
“At your service,” von Wrech said readily.
– Do you know that this river – the Irtysh – begins in China?
“Very interesting,” said von Wrech. - So what?
“I’ll share my plan with you, Kurt,” Tabbert felt himself a little worried, because his plan was indeed extremely unusual. – I decided to draw up a detailed map of the Irtysh and its tributaries in order to show the Russian routes to China, unknown in Europe.
“The monarchs of Europe have always been curious about this strange state,” von Wrech nodded, “and Sweden does not yet have its own East India Company.”
– I hope my map will serve the development of trade and diplomacy. But first it needs to be published in a good circulation so that it is sold in all bookstores. As far as I know, Professor Franke has engraving tables and a printing house at the University of Halle. I agree to pay a quarter of the profits from the sale of the card to Dr. Franke and a quarter to you, Kurt.
Von Wrech did not answer, fiddling with the reins.
“My dear Tabbert,” he said guiltily, “I cannot violate the laws of this country, because sending cards from Russia to us is prohibited.”
Tabbert was overcome with disappointment. Von Wrech, alas, did not understand the audacity and greatness of his project. A map of the protected route to China is not a school or a pharmacy.
“It’s a shame, Kurt,” Tabbert said coldly. “Well, then, maybe you can point me to some expert on these lands for consultation?” After all, you have lived in Tobolsk longer than me.
“I don’t know such a person,” von Wrech put his hand on Tabbert’s hand in sympathy, “but the local officer Novitsky will help you.” He teaches classes at my school. Come autumn, when he returns from his trip.
- 22.