Viktor Pelevin - the dialectics of the transitional period from nowhere to nowhere. Victor Pelevin - Dialectics of the Transition Period from Nowhere to Nowhere (Collection)

07.05.2019 Windows 8

Victor Pelevin

Full composition of writings. T. 7

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How to write an elegy

We will hardly meet soon.
Behind the pain, pain
Far, far,
Behind the hole catcher in the rye
Paradise is also paradise.
At noon the evening is blue,
Behind the battle buoy
For gay goy.
Wake up and sing, and God be with you
He kicks his leg.
Comrade, tyr. Comrade, believe me.
For foolish foolishness
Behind the door is a door.
Here and now will pass in an hour,
Then again now.
Seven troubles - one coup.
Behind the sneaker,
Year after year
And only a fool will not understand
Which is the opposite.
Policeman, millionaire,
For the second forest
For the chorus dick.
Lots of different herbs and faiths.
bottle, for example.
Katyushin's husband overate pears.
Behind the mountain of mountains,
For Bush Bush.
Homer, your list of dead souls
In the middle already.
For the verdict, the verdict
Beyond the sea mur
Behind the moore is a thief,
Behind the pun is a contract.
Glamor, kumar, amor.
We bake a loaf.
For kir car,
For howling wai.
False Dmitry was May Day,
And I love my country.
The feather grass sways around.
Far, far,
For reality,
And a small car
Kicks up dust in the field.
Pretty fast ride
Sunset,
Evening Star,
And unfamiliar places.
All this is no accident.

Might of the Great

Sigmund Freud and Felix Dzerzhinsky

Oknov: No, let me in!.. Let me go! Let... That's what I wanted to do!

Stryuchkov and Motylkov: What a horror!

Windows: Ha-ha-ha!

Motylkov: And where is Kozlov?

Stryuchkov: He crawled into the bushes.

Daniil Kharms I

The idea to conclude a pact with the seven came to Stepa Mikhailov when he began to read a little and think about the differences between the sexes. The first forms of this alliance were primitive. Styopa drew sevens different kind on the different cases life. For example, large and hollow, full page, protected from those guys who were older and stronger. Four pointed sevens, located at the corners of the sheet, were supposed to stop the rowdy roommates who had a habit of sneaking up during quiet hours to hit the head with a pillow or put something nasty right in front of their noses. However, several unfortunate incidents, from which the sevens were supposed to protect, showed that this method was not suitable.

Styopa decided that the seven in the singular did not have enough strength, and began to cover page after page with tiny blue corners, feeling like a conqueror recruiting an army to conquer the world. But the army, as it quickly became clear, did not want to fight. The bruises received by Styopa at the summer camp after exactly seven notebooks were filled with sevens showed this with complete conviction.

Wandering after school through quiet groves near Moscow and dumps full of treasures, Styopa thought about it until he understood what was the matter. For some reason, he decided from the very beginning that the seven were aware of all his plans. It seemed like a matter of course that she would know about his thoughts the moment they entered his head. And meanwhile, how many there were in the world like him! Styopa guessed that he should somehow attract the attention of the seven, make her find out about the alliance that he wants to conclude, and single him out from the crowd.

In the lessons at school, they said that in ancient times people who wanted to appeal to the gods made sacrifices to them. The seven may not have been the same god as Zeus or Apollo, but clearly lived in a superhuman dimension. Therefore, the forgotten technology could work.

Styopa knew that bulls were sacrificed to the ancient gods by burning them at the stake. For several weeks, he seriously considered the ritual arson of one of the cowsheds in the state farm, which was located not far from their dacha. A bottle of gasoline and long strips of rubber were prepared, which were supposed to be used as fickford cord. IN last moment Stephen changed his mind. Still, it was too big a project.

But the gas didn't run out. Styopa stole seven cans of beef stew from the house - they were military-looking tin cylinders with an oval bull's muzzle similar to a photograph from an old grave. Such a quantity of product required a large fire, and he burned his hand, but on the whole the ritual, which he performed in the forest near the house, went smoothly.

The stench of burnt meat reminded him of something mysterious and long forgotten (even a strange phrase came to mind - “fiery hyena”). The experience was too fleeting to analyze, a hallucination of memory, a shadow of the thought of something that had certainly never happened to him. Yet it was this strange half-memory that opened his eyes to his error.

What was the purpose of the sacrifice? The sky was offered what it endowed - life, soul. And the greyish beef from the USSR's strategic stockpiles was just the packaging left over from a long-dissipated life force, just as tin cans were the packaging of burnt meat. Sacrificing dead matter to the spirit was like giving an empty candy box for a birthday. The boards of the old fence, from which he built the fire, were better suited, because in some places live mold grew on them.

The next step was simple and logical. Styopa rolled up seven sheets of newspaper into a handy long fly swatter and began to smuggle the flies that had flown into the kitchen from the yard into the other world. For their souls to reach desired address, each time after hitting Styopa, in a whisper, he repeated incomprehensibly how the rhyme that had developed in his head: “Seven aspens and pines seven, seven sevens for good.” It was not entirely clear how many flies should have been sent to the seven under this counting rhyme - either seven times seven, or seventy-seven. Styopa decided to opt for the second option and was already approaching the coveted figure when a sudden blow of fate made the project irrelevant.

It was caused by a book that my father forgot on the kitchen table, not even the whole book, but only one phrase on the spread, where Styopa accidentally lowered his eyes - about a certain Stirlitz, who so firmly believed in the happy destiny of the number "seven", that, supplying whom -then false information, tried to make the numbers present in it give a total of seven.

Styopa realized to what extent he and his fly swatter are uncompetitive in a world full of adults who share the same views on the miraculous. Their possibilities were immeasurably wider; some could send many millions of people to the magic address, let alone flies. Was it worth hoping that the seven, surrounded by hosts of powerful admirers, would pay attention to him? It was as naive as expecting an elephant, surrounded by a brass band, to notice a buzzing mosquito.

On the long time Styopa has lost faith in the fact that something can be extracted from an alliance with numbers. Even the very idea that it could be concluded began to seem doubtful to him.

It took several years for the wound in his soul to heal, and Styopa was visited by new ideas about numbers and figures.

The seven were universally chosen. Everyone turned to her - British superagents, fairy-tale heroes, cities standing on seven hills, and even angelic hierarchies who had attachment to the seventh heaven. The Seven was a spoiled and expensive courtesan, and it is not surprising that Stepin's modest courtship went unanswered. But she was not the only figure in the world.

However, Styopa, taught by sad experience, was in no hurry to choose some other one. He guessed that no matter which number he turned to, there were many people in the world who had made the same choice. And the more competitors he has, the less chance that the chosen figure will respond to his sorcery or at least guess about his existence. On the other hand, logic dictated that two-digit and three-digit numbers were not so spoiled for attention.

Styopa intuitively felt that numbers from one to nine were more powerful than two-digit numbers, and two-digit numbers were stronger than three-digit ones, and so on. But the words of Caesar, heard in a history lesson, sunk into his soul - “it’s better to be the first in a Gallic village than the last in Rome” (the teacher made a reservation, saying “it’s better to be the first in Rome than the last in a Gallic village”, but Styopa understood, that this is a mistake, because for Caesar it would sound too smug). And he began to pick up a quieter Gallic village.

Victor Pelevin's book with the complicated title "DPP (NN)" is a bizarre mosaic of a novel and miniature stories, subject to one theme: the transition from nowhere to nowhere. Main character novel "Numbers" - the banker Styopa, who builds his whole life as a service to the number 34.

The stories included in the collection add subtle touches to the era in which Styopa worshiped his fetish as best he could ...

The book was also published under the title Dialectic Transition Period From Nowhere to Nowhere (Compilation)

Victor Pelevin

Full composition of writings. T. 7

DPP (NN)

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Elegy 2

This is how I came up with the cart

How to write an elegy

We will hardly meet soon.

Behind the pain, pain

Far, far,

Paradise is also paradise.

At noon the evening is blue,

Behind the battle buoy

For gay goy.

Wake up and sing, and God be with you

He kicks his leg.

Comrade, tyr. Comrade, believe me.

For foolish foolishness

Behind the door is a door.

Here and now will pass in an hour,

Then again now.

Seven troubles - one coup.

Behind the sneaker,

Year after year

And only a fool will not understand

Which is the opposite.

Policeman, millionaire,

For the second forest

For the chorus dick.

Lots of different herbs and faiths.

bottle, for example.

Katyushin's husband overate pears.

Behind the mountain of mountains,

For Bush Bush.

Homer, your list of dead souls

In the middle already.

For the verdict, the verdict

Beyond the sea mur

Behind the moore is a thief,

Behind the pun is a contract.

Glamor, kumar, amor.

We bake a loaf.

For kir car,

For howling wai.

False Dmitry was May Day,

And I love my country.

The feather grass sways around.

Far, far,

For reality,

And a small car

Kicks up dust in the field.

Pretty fast ride

Evening Star,

And unfamiliar places.

All this is no accident.

Might of the Great

Sigmund Freud and Felix Dzerzhinsky

Numbers

Oknov: No, let me in!.. Let me go! Let... That's what I wanted to do!

Stryuchkov and Motylkov: What a horror!

Windows: Ha-ha-ha!

Motylkov: And where is Kozlov?

Stryuchkov: He crawled into the bushes.

Daniil Kharms

The idea to conclude a pact with the seven came to Stepa Mikhailov when he began to read a little and think about the differences between the sexes. The first forms of this alliance were primitive. Styopa drew different types of sevens for different occasions. For example, large and hollow, full page, protected from those guys who were older and stronger. Four pointed sevens, located at the corners of the sheet, were supposed to stop the rowdy roommates who had a habit of sneaking up during quiet hours to hit the head with a pillow or put something nasty right in front of their noses. However, several unfortunate incidents, from which the sevens were supposed to protect, showed that this method was not suitable.

Styopa knew that bulls were sacrificed to the ancient gods by burning them at the stake. For several weeks, he seriously considered the ritual arson of one of the cowsheds in the state farm, which was located not far from their dacha. A bottle of gasoline and long strips of rubber were prepared, which were supposed to be used as fickford cord. At the last moment Styopa changed his mind. Still, it was too big a project.

The next step was simple and logical. Styopa rolled up seven sheets of newspaper into a handy long fly swatter and began to smuggle the flies that had flown into the kitchen from the yard into the other world. In order for their souls to reach the right address, each time after hitting Styopa, in a whisper, he repeated incomprehensibly how the rhyme that had developed in his head: “Seven aspens and pines seven, seven sevens for good.” It was not entirely clear how many flies should have been sent to the seven under this counting rhyme - either seven times seven, or seventy-seven. Styopa decided to opt for the second option and was already approaching the coveted figure when a sudden blow of fate made the project irrelevant.

Dialectics of the Transitional Period From Nowhere to Nowhere

This is how I came up with the cart

How to write an elegy.

We will hardly meet soon.
Behind the pain, pain
Far, far,
Behind the hole catcher in the rye
Paradise is also paradise.

At noon the evening is blue,
Behind the battle buoy
For gay goy.
Wake up and sing, and God be with you
He kicks his leg.

Seven troubles - one coup.
Behind the sneaker,
Year after year
And only a fool will not understand
Which is the opposite.

Policeman, millionaire,
For the second forest
For the chorus dick.
Lots of different herbs and faiths.
bottle, for example.

Katyushin's husband overate pears.
Behind the mountain of mountains,
For Bush Bush.
Homer, your list of dead souls
In the middle already.

For the verdict, the verdict
Beyond the sea mur
Behind the moore is a thief,
Behind the pun is a contract.
Glamor, kumar, amor.

We bake a loaf.
For kir car,
For howling wai.
False Dmitry was May Day,
And I love my country.

The feather grass sways around.
Far, far,
For reality,
And a small car
Kicks up dust in the field.

Pretty fast ride
Sunset,
Evening Star,
And unfamiliar places.
All this is no accident.

M:\ TXT\ PELEVIN\ DPP(NN)\ POWER OF THE GREAT

Sigmund Freud and Felix Dzerzhinsky

NUMBERS. novel

Oknov: No, let me in! ... Let me go!

Let... That's what I wanted to do!

Stryuchkov and Motylkov: What a horror!

Windows: Ha-ha-ha!

Motylkov: And where is Kozlov?

Stryuchkov: He crawled into the bushes.

Daniil Kharms

The idea to conclude a pact with the seven came to Stepa Mikhailov when he began to read a little and think about the differences between the sexes. The first forms of this alliance were primitive. Styopa drew different types of sevens for different occasions. For example, large and hollow, full page, protected from those guys who were older and stronger. Four pointed sevens, located at the corners of the sheet, were supposed to stop the rowdy roommates who had a habit of sneaking up during quiet hours to hit the head with a pillow or put something nasty right in front of their noses. However, several unfortunate incidents, from which the sevens were supposed to protect, showed that this method was not suitable.

Styopa knew that bulls were sacrificed to the ancient gods by burning them at the stake. For several weeks, he seriously considered the ritual arson of one of the cowsheds in the state farm, which was located not far from their dacha. A bottle of gasoline and long strips of rubber were prepared, which were supposed to be used as fickford cord. At the last moment Styopa changed his mind. Still, it was too big a project.

The stench of burnt meat reminded him of something mysterious and long forgotten (even a strange phrase came to mind - “fiery hyena”). The experience was too fleeting to analyze, a hallucination of memory, a shadow of the thought of something that had certainly never happened to him. However, it was this strange half-memory that opened his eyes to his mistake.

The next step was simple and logical. Styopa rolled up seven sheets of newspaper into a handy long fly swatter and began to smuggle the flies that had flown into the kitchen from the yard into the other world. In order for their souls to reach the right address, each time after hitting Styopa, in a whisper, he repeated incomprehensibly how the rhyme that had developed in his head: “Seven aspens and pines seven, seven sevens for good.” It was not entirely clear how many flies should have been sent to the seven under this counting rhyme - either seven times seven, or seventy-seven. Styopa decided to opt for the second option and was already approaching the coveted figure when a sudden blow of fate made the project irrelevant.

It was caused by a book that my father forgot on the kitchen table, not even the whole book, but only one phrase on the spread, where Styopa accidentally lowered his eyes - about a certain Stirlitz, who so firmly believed in the happy destiny of the number "seven", that, supplying someone then with false information, he tried to make the numbers present in it give a total of seven.

For a long time, Styopa lost faith in the fact that something can be extracted from an alliance with numbers. Even the very idea that it could be concluded began to seem doubtful to him.

It took several years for the wound in his soul to heal, and Styopa was visited by new ideas about numbers and figures.

Viktor Olegovich Pelevin

Dialectics of the Transition Period from Nowhere to Nowhere (Collection)

This is how I came up with the cart

How to write an elegy