Why was the Massolite building called Griboyedov's house? Press. The Master and Margarita. Feature film

MASSOLIT is the largest literary organization.

In D. G. Bulgakov captured the so-called Herzen House (Tverskoy Boulevard, 25), where in the 20s a number of literary organizations were located: RAPP (Russian Association of Proletarian Writers) and MAPP (Moscow Association of Proletarian Writers), on the model of which it was created fictional MASSOLIT. There is no decoding of this abbreviation in the text of “The Master and Margarita,” but the most likely one seems to be the Masters (or Workshop) of socialist literature, by analogy with the association of playwrights MASTKOMDRAM (Workshop of Communist Drama) that existed in the 20s.

The restaurant of D. G. reflected the features of not only the restaurant of the Herzen House, but also the restaurant of the Theater Workers' Club, the director of which at different times was J. D. Rosenthal (1893-1966), who served as the prototype for the director of the restaurant D. G. Archibald Archibaldovich. The restaurant of the Theater Workers' Club, located in Staropimenovsky Lane, moved for the spring and summer to a branch, which served as a kindergarten at an old mansion (house no. 11) on Strastnoy Boulevard, where the magazine and newspaper association ("Zhurgaz") was located. In this association, Bulgakov intended to publish his Moliere. In the Zhurgaz garden, where entry was only possible with special passes, the famous jazz orchestra of Alexander Tsfasman played, often performing the foxtrot “Hallelujah”, popular in the 20s and 30s, by the American composer Vincent Youmans (the notes of this were preserved in the Bulgakov archive foxtrot). "Hallelujah" is played by the orchestra of D.G.'s restaurant before the news of Berlioz's death arrives there, as well as by the jazz orchestra at Satan's Great Ball. This foxtrot is a parody of a Christian service in D. G.’s restaurant, which is likened to hell. It is interesting that the Great Ball at Satan’s house absorbed many of the features of the reception at the American Embassy in Moscow on April 22, 1935, which was attended by Bulgakov and where “Hallelujah” was also probably performed.

The Herzen House is parodically compared to the Griboyedov House, since the surname of the famous playwright Alexander Sergeevich Griboyedov (1795-1829) is “gastronomic” and indicates the main passion of the MASSOLIT members - the desire to eat well. But the real House of Herzen and the name of Griboedov also have some connection, which prompted Bulgakov to give his D.G. the name of the author of “Woe from Wit” (1820-1824). In this house in 1812, the writer and publicist Alexander Ivanovich Herzen (1812-1870), the illegitimate son of a large landowner I. A. Yakovlev, brother of the owner of the house, Senator A. A. Yakovlev, was born. The senator's son Alexei, cousin of A.I. Herzen, is mentioned in Griboyedov's "Woe from Wit" by Princess Tugoukhovskaya as an eccentric who "doesn't want to know officials! He is a chemist, he is a botanist, Prince Fyodor is my nephew!"

In “The Master and Margarita” the story of D.G. is given: “The house was called the “Griboedov House” on the grounds that it was allegedly once owned by the aunt of the writer Alexander Sergeevich Griboyedov (The Herzen House was owned by the uncle of the author of “The Past and Thoughts” (1852- 1868), where his cousin Alexei was listed as Khimik). Well, whether she owned it or not, we don’t even know for sure that it seems that Griboyedov didn’t have any aunt as a landlady... However, the house was called that. the Moscow liar said that supposedly on the second floor, in a round hall with columns, the famous writer read excerpts from “Woe from Wit” to this same aunt, reclining on the sofa (an allusion to Herzen’s cousin in “Woe from Wit,” where going back to his character is Tugoukhovskaya’s nephew). But who knows, maybe he read it, it doesn’t matter!”

A number of MASSOLIT writers living in D.G. have their own prototypes. Thus, the critic Mstislav Lavrovich is a parody, through cherry laurel drops, of the writer and playwright Vsevolod Vitalievich Vishnevsky (1900-1951), one of Bulgakov’s zealous persecutors, who contributed a lot, in particular, to the disruption of the production of “The Cabal of the Saints” at the Leningrad Bolshoi Drama Theater. Vishnevsky was also reflected in one of the visitors to the restaurant D.G. - “the writer Johann from Kronstadt.” This is an allusion to the film scripts “We are from Kronstadt” (1933) and “We are the Russian people” (1937), written by Vishnevsky and linking the playwright with another prototype of Johann of Kronstadt - a famous church figure and preacher, canonized by the Russian Orthodox Church, o . John of Kronstadt (I. I. Sergeev) (1829-1908). Father John was the archpriest of the Kronstadt Cathedral and an honorary member of the Black Hundred “Union of the Russian People.” In 1882, he founded the House of Diligence in Kronstadt, where workers' workshops, evening manual labor courses, a school for three hundred children, a library, an orphanage, a public canteen and other institutions for caring for the needy were set up.

D.G. is a parody of the House of Hard Work. The people's canteen here has turned into a luxurious restaurant. The library in D.G. is brilliantly absent - MASSOLIT members do not need it, because Berlioz’s colleagues are not readers, but writers. Instead of labor institutions of the House of Diligence in D.G., there are departments associated only with recreation and entertainment: “Fish and dacha section”, “One-day creative trip. Contact M.V. Podlozhnaya”, “Perelygino” (a parody of the dacha writers' village Peredelkino), “Cash Office”, “Personal calculations of sketchists”, “Housing problem”, “Full sabbatical leave from two weeks (short story) to one year (novel, trilogy). Yalta, Suuk-su, Borovoye, Tsikhidziri, Makhinjauri , Leningrad (Winter Palace)" (the names of resorts and tourist attractions speak for themselves), "Billiard Room", etc.

Last name of the Chairman of the Main Repertoire Committee in 1930-1937. playwright and theater critic Osaf Semenovich Litovsky (1892-1971), the most implacable of Bulgakov’s opponents, who contributed to the banning of all his plays, is parodied in the name of the critic Latunsky, a member of MASSOLIT, who killed the Master. The twelve members of the leadership of MASSOLIT, waiting in vain for their chairman in D.G., are parodically likened to the twelve apostles, only not of the Christian, but of the new communist faith. The deceased Berlioz repeats the fate of Jesus Christ, although he suffers death like John the Baptist - from beheading.

"Navigator Georges" is not only a parody of the French writer Georges Sand (Aurore Dupin) (1804-1876). Under this pseudonym, the “Moscow merchant orphan” Nastasya Lukinichna Nepremenova, the author of sea battle stories, who was present at the meeting in D.G., writes. Her specific prototype from Bulgakov’s contemporaries is playwright Sofya Aleksandrovna Apraksina-Lavrinaitis, who wrote under the pseudonym “Sergei Mutaezhny.” As the entries in the diary of the writer’s third wife E. S. Bulgakova testify, Apraksina-Lavrinaitis was familiar with Bulgakov and in March 1939 unsuccessfully tried to give him her libretto for the Bolshoi Theater. On March 5, Elena Sergeevna noted: “Call. - “I’m a writer, I’ve met Mikhail Andreevich before and I know him well...”
- With Mikhail Afanasyevich?
I choked. Last name is illegible. In short, I wrote the libretto. He wants M.A. to read it." On March 8, the writer called again and "it turned out to be Sergei Mutaezhny." Unlike "S. Rebellious", Bulgakov remembered Apraksina-Lavrinaitis well, because the colorful heroine, going back to her, appeared already in the early editions of "The Master and Margarita" under the pseudonym "Boatswain Georges" and with the almost apocalyptic age of 66 years. Another prototype of "Navigator Georges" was Larisa Mikhailovna Reisner (1895-1926), writer and active participant in the civil war, during which she, together with her husband Fyodor Fedorovich Raskolnikov (Ilyin) (1892-1939), was on the ships of the Red Fleet as a political worker. The impressions of that time were embodied in naval prose. L. A. Reisner She became the prototype of the female commissar in Vsevolod Vishnevsky’s play “An Optimistic Tragedy” (1933). F. F. Raskolnikov, one of the leaders of the Soviet naval forces, and later a diplomat, was in the late 20s. head of the Main Repertoire Committee and editor of the magazine "Krasnaya Nov". At this time, Bulgakov was not afraid to publicly criticize Raskolnikov's play "Robespierre" (according to the memoirs of E. S. Bulgakova, the author of the play was so enraged by the criticism that her husband was even afraid of being shot in the back).

The novelist Beskudnikov in the early edition was the chairman of the playwrights' section, and appeared in D.G. "in a good suit, made of Parisian material, and strong shoes, also made in France." These details connect this character with the hero of the story “It Was May,” the young playwright Polievkt Eduardovich, who had just returned from abroad and dressed in everything foreign. Polievkt Eduardovich and Beskudnikov had a common prototype - the writer and playwright Vladimir Mikhailovich Kirshon (1902-1938), persecutor and competitor of Bulgakov.

The ancient two-story cream-colored house was located on the boulevard ring in the depths of a sparse garden, separated from the sidewalk of the ring by a carved cast-iron lattice. A small area in front of the house was paved, and in winter there was a snowdrift with a shovel on it, and in summer it turned into a magnificent section of a summer restaurant under a canvas awning.

The house was called “Griboyedov’s house” on the grounds that it was allegedly once owned by the aunt of the writer Alexander Sergeevich Griboyedov. Well, whether she owned it or not, we don’t know. I even remember that, it seems, Griboyedov did not have any aunt-landowner... However, that was the name of the house. Moreover, one Moscow liar said that supposedly on the second floor, in a round hall with columns, the famous writer read excerpts from “Woe from Wit” to this same aunt, who was reclining on the sofa, but who knows, maybe I read it, it doesn’t matter!

And the important thing is that this house was currently owned by the same MASSOLIT, headed by the unfortunate Mikhail Alexandrovich Berlioz before his appearance at the Patriarch’s Ponds.

With the light hand of the MASSOLIT members, no one called the house “Griboyedov’s house,” but everyone simply said “Griboedov”: “Yesterday I spent two hours hanging out at Griboedov’s,” “So how?” - “I got to Yalta for a month.” - "Well done!" Or: “Go to Berlioz, he is receiving from four to five today in Griboedov...” And so on.

MASSOLIT is located in Griboedov in such a way that it couldn’t be better or more comfortable. Anyone entering Griboyedov’s, first of all, involuntarily became familiar with the notices of various sports clubs and with group, as well as individual photographs of MASSOLIT members, with which (photographs) the walls of the staircase leading to the second floor were hung.

On the door of the first room on this top floor one could see a large inscription “Fish and country section”, and right there there was a picture of a crucian carp caught on a hook.

Something not entirely clear was written on the door of room No. 2: “One-day creative trip. Contact M.V. Podlozhnaya.”

The next door bore a brief but completely incomprehensible inscription: “Perelygino.” Then a random visitor to Griboyedov’s eyes began to run wild from the inscriptions that were colorful on his aunt’s walnut doors: “Registration in the queue for paper at Poklevkina’s,” “Cash desk,” “Personal calculations of sketchists”...

Having cut through the longest queue, which began already downstairs in the Swiss one, one could see the inscription on the door, into which people were banging every second: “Housing problem.”

Behind the housing issue, a luxurious poster was revealed, which depicted a rock, and along its ridge a horseman was riding in a burqa and with a rifle over his shoulders. Below are palm trees and a balcony, on the balcony is a sitting young man with a tuft, looking somewhere up with very, very lively eyes and holding a pen in his hand. Signature: "Full-length sabbaticals from two weeks (short story) to one year (novel, trilogy). Yalta, Suuk-Su, Borovoye, Tsikhidziri, Makhinjauri, Leningrad (Winter Palace)." There was also a queue at this door, but not excessive, about one and a half hundred people.

Then followed, obeying the whimsical curves, ascents and descents of the Griboedovsky house, - “The Board of MASSOLIT”, “Cashiers No. 2, 3, 4, 5”, “Editorial Board”, “Chairman of MASSOLIT”, “Billiard Room”, various auxiliary institutions, and finally , the same hall with a colonnade where the aunt enjoyed the comedy of her brilliant nephew.

Every visitor, unless, of course, he was completely stupid, having found himself in Griboyedov, he immediately realized how good life was for the lucky members of MASSOLIT, and black envy immediately began to torment him. And immediately he turned to heaven with bitter reproaches for the fact that it did not reward him with literary talent at birth, without which, naturally, there was no point in dreaming of acquiring a MASSOLIT membership card, brown, smelling of expensive leather, with a wide gold border, known to all Moscow with a ticket.

Who will say anything in defense of envy? This is a feeling of a crappy category, but you still have to put yourself in the position of a visitor. After all, what he saw on the top floor was not all, and far from all. The entire lower floor of my aunt's house was occupied by a restaurant, and what a restaurant! In fairness, he was considered the best in Moscow. And not only because it was located in two large halls with vaulted ceilings, painted with purple horses with Assyrian manes, not only because on each table there was a lamp covered with a shawl, not only because the first person who came across could not get there with streets, and also because Griboyedov beat any restaurant in Moscow as he wanted with the quality of his provisions, and that this provision was sold at the most reasonable, by no means burdensome price.

Therefore, there is nothing surprising in such a conversation, which the author of these most truthful lines once heard at Griboyedov’s cast-iron grate:

Where are you having dinner today, Ambrose?

What a question, of course, here, dear Foka! Archibald Archibaldovich whispered to me today that there will be portioned pike perch a naturel. Virtuoso thing!

You know how to live, Ambrose! - with a sigh, the skinny, neglected Fok, with a carbuncle on his neck, answered the ruddy-lipped giant, golden-haired, puffy-cheeked Ambrose the poet.

“I don’t have any special skills,” Ambrose objected, “but an ordinary desire to live like a human being.” Are you saying, Foka, that pike perch can also be found at the Colosseum. But at the Colosseum a portion of pike perch costs thirteen rubles and fifteen kopecks, and here it costs five fifty! In addition, in the “Colosseum” the pike perch are third-day, and, besides, you still have no guarantee that you will not get a grape brush in the face in the “Coliseum” from the first young man who bursts in from the theater passage. No, I’m categorically against the “Colosseum,” the grocery store Ambrose thundered throughout the boulevard. - Don't persuade me, Foka!

“I’m not trying to persuade you, Ambrose,” Foka squeaked. - You can have dinner at home.

“Humble servant,” Ambrose trumpeted, “I can imagine your wife trying to make portioned pike perch a naturel in a saucepan in the common kitchen of the house!” Gi-gi-gi!.. Orevoir, Foka! - and, humming, Ambrose rushed to the veranda under the awning.

Eh-ho-ho... Yes, it was, it was!.. Moscow old-timers remember the famous Griboyedov! What boiled portioned pike perch! It's cheap, dear Ambrose! What about sterlet, sterlet in a silver saucepan, sterlet in pieces, topped with crayfish tails and fresh caviar? And cocotte eggs with champignon puree in cups? Didn't you like blackbird fillets? With truffles? Genoese quail? Ten and a half! Yes jazz, yes polite service! And in July, when the whole family is at the dacha, and urgent literary matters keep you in the city, - on the veranda, in the shade of climbing grapes, in a golden spot on a clean tablecloth, a plate of soup-prentanière? Remember, Ambrose? Well, why ask! I see from your lips that you remember. What are your little tits, pike perch! What about great snipes, woodcocks, snipes, woodcocks in season, quails, waders? Narzan hissing in the throat?! But enough, you're getting distracted, reader! Follow me!..

At half past ten o'clock that evening when Berlioz died at the Patriarch's, only one room was lit upstairs in Griboyedov, and twelve writers languished in it, gathered for a meeting and waiting for Mikhail Alexandrovich.

Those sitting on chairs, and on tables, and even on two window sills in the MASSOLIT board room seriously suffered from stuffiness. Not a single fresh stream penetrated the open windows. Moscow was giving off the heat accumulated during the day in the asphalt, and it was clear that the night would not bring relief. There was a smell of onions from the basement of my aunt’s house, where the restaurant kitchen worked, and everyone was thirsty, everyone was nervous and angry.

The novelist Beskudnikov, a quiet, decently dressed man with attentive and at the same time elusive eyes, took out his watch. The needle was creeping towards eleven. Beskudnikov tapped the dial with his finger and showed it to his neighbor, the poet Dvubratsky, who was sitting on the table and dangling his feet, shod in yellow rubber shoes, in melancholy.

However,” Dvubratsky grumbled.

The boy is probably stuck on the Klyazma,” said Nastasya Lukinishna Nepremenova, a Moscow merchant orphan who became a writer and writes battle sea stories under the pseudonym “Navigator Georges,” in a thick voice.

And now it’s good on the Klyazma,” Sturman Georges urged those present, knowing that the literary dacha village of Perelygino on the Klyazma is a common sore spot. - Now the nightingales are probably singing. I always somehow work better outside the city, especially in the spring.

This is the third year I’ve been contributing money to send my wife, who is sick with Graves’ disease, to this paradise, but for some reason I can’t see anything in the waves,” said short story writer Hieronymus Poprikhin venomously and bitterly.

“It depends on how lucky someone is,” the critic Ababkov boomed from the windowsill.

Joy lit up in the little eyes of Navigator Georges, and she said, softening her contralto:

There is no need, comrades, to envy. There are only twenty-two dachas, and only seven more are being built, but there are three thousand of us in MASSOLIT.

Three thousand one hundred and eleven people,” someone interjected from the corner.

Well, you see,” said the Navigator, “what should we do? Naturally, the most talented of us got the dachas...

Generals! - screenwriter Glukharev crashed straight into the squabble.

Beskudnikov, with an artificial yawn, left the room.

“Alone in five rooms in Perelygin,” Glukharev said after him.

Lavrovich is alone at six,” Deniskin cried, “and the dining room is paneled with oak!”

“Eh, that’s not the point now,” Ababkov boomed, “but the fact that it’s half past eleven.”

The noise began, something like a riot was brewing. They started calling the hated Perelygino, ended up at the wrong dacha, Lavrovich’s, found out that Lavrovich had gone to the river, and were completely upset about it. At random they called the Commission of Fine Literature at additional $930 and, of course, found no one there.

He could have called! - Deniskin, Glukharev and Kvant shouted.

Oh, they shouted in vain: Mikhail Alexandrovich could not call anywhere. Far, far from Griboyedov, in a huge hall, illuminated by thousand-candle lamps, on three zinc tables lay what had recently been Mikhail Alexandrovich.

On the first - a naked body covered in dried blood with a broken arm and a crushed chest, on the other - a head with knocked out front teeth, with dim open eyes that were not frightened by the harshest light, and on the third - a pile of crusty rags.

Standing near the beheaded man were: a professor of forensic medicine, a pathologist and his dissector, representatives of the investigation, and Mikhail Aleksandrovich Berlioz’s deputy at MASSOLIT, the writer Zheldybin, called by telephone from his sick wife.

The car picked up Zheldybin and, first of all, together with the investigation, took him (it was around midnight) to the apartment of the murdered man, where his papers were sealed, and then everyone went to the morgue.

Now those standing at the remains of the deceased were conferring on how best to do it: should they sew the severed head to the neck or display the body in the Griboedov Hall, simply covering the deceased tightly up to the chin with a black scarf?

Yes, Mikhail Aleksandrovich could not call anywhere, and it was completely in vain that Deniskin, Glukharev and Kvant and Beskudnikov were indignant and shouted. At exactly midnight, all twelve writers left the top floor and went down to the restaurant. Here again they spoke an unkind word about Mikhail Alexandrovich: all the tables on the veranda, naturally, were already occupied, and they had to stay for dinner in these beautiful but stuffy rooms.

And exactly at midnight in the first of them something crashed, rang, fell, and jumped. And immediately a thin male voice desperately shouted to the music: “Hallelujah!!” It was the famous Griboedov jazz that struck. The faces covered with perspiration seemed to glow, it seemed as if the horses painted on the ceiling had come to life, the lamps seemed to add more light, and suddenly, as if breaking free, both halls danced, and behind them the veranda danced.

Glukharev danced with the poetess Tamara Crescent, Kvant danced, Zhukolov the novelist danced with some film actress in a yellow dress. They danced: Dragunsky, Cherdakchi, little Deniskin with the gigantic Navigator George, the beautiful architect Semeikina-Gall danced, tightly grabbed by an unknown person in white matting trousers. Their own and invited guests, Moscow and visitors, danced, the writer Johann from Kronstadt, some Vitya Kuftik from Rostov, it seems, a director, with purple lichen all over his cheek, the most prominent representatives of the poetic subsection of MASSOLIT danced, that is, Pavianov, Bogokhulsky, Sladky, Shpichkin and Adelfina Buzdyak, young people of an unknown profession danced in box haircuts, with shoulders padded with cotton wool, a very elderly man with a beard in which a green onion feather was stuck danced, an elderly girl, fed up with anemia, in an orange silk crumpled dress danced with him.

Swimming with sweat, the waiters carried steamed mugs of beer over their heads, shouting hoarsely and with hatred: “Guilty, citizen!” Somewhere in the mouthpiece a voice commanded: “Karsky time! Zubrik two! Gospodar flasks!!” The thin voice no longer sang, but howled: “Hallelujah!” The clatter of golden plates in jazz sometimes covered the clatter of dishes, which the dishwashers lowered down an inclined plane into the kitchen. In a word, hell.

And at midnight there was a vision in hell. A handsome black-eyed man with a dagger-like beard, wearing a tailcoat, came out onto the veranda and looked around his possessions with a royal gaze. They said, the mystics said, that there was a time when the handsome man did not wear a tailcoat, but was girded with a wide leather belt, from which the handles of pistols protruded, and his raven-wing hair was tied with scarlet silk, and sailed in the Caribbean Sea under his command of the brig under black coffin flag with Adam's head.

But no, no! Seductive mystics lie, there are no Caribbean seas in the world, and desperate filibusters do not sail in them, and there is no corvette chasing them, and there is no cannon smoke spreading over the waves. There is nothing, and nothing ever happened! There is a stunted linden tree, there is a cast-iron grate and behind it a boulevard... And the ice is melting in a vase, and at the next table you can see someone’s bloodshot bull eyes, and it’s scary, scary... Oh gods, my gods, I’m poisoned, poison!..

And suddenly the word fluttered up at the table: “Berlioz!!” Suddenly the jazz fell apart and fell silent, as if someone had slammed their fist on it. "What, what, what, what?!" - "Berlioz!!!" And let's jump up, let's jump up.

Yes, a wave of grief surged at the terrible news about Mikhail Alexandrovich. Someone was fussing, shouting that it was necessary now, right there, without leaving the spot, to compose some kind of collective telegram and send it immediately.

But what telegram, we ask, and where? And why send it? In fact, where? And what is the need for any kind of telegram to someone whose flattened back of the head is now being squeezed in the rubber hands of the dissector, whose neck is now being stabbed by the professor with crooked needles? He died, and he doesn’t need any telegram. It's all over, let's not load the telegraph anymore.

Yes, he died, he died... But we are alive!

Yes, a wave of grief surged up, but it held on, held on and began to subside, and someone had already returned to their table and - first secretly, and then openly - drank vodka and had a snack. In fact, don’t chicken cutlets de voile go to waste? How can we help Mikhail Alexandrovich? The fact that we will remain hungry? But we are alive!

Naturally, the piano was locked, the jazz sold out, several journalists went to their editorial offices to write obituaries. It became known that Zheldybin had arrived from the morgue. He placed himself in the deceased’s office upstairs, and a rumor immediately spread that he would be replacing Berlioz. Zheldybin summoned all twelve members of the board from the restaurant, and in an urgent meeting that began in Berlioz’s office, they began to discuss urgent issues about the decoration of the columned Griboedov Hall, about transporting the body from the morgue to this hall, about opening access to it, and other things related to unfortunate event.

And the restaurant began to live its usual nightlife and would have lived it until closing, that is, until four o’clock in the morning, if something had not happened that was completely out of the ordinary and struck the restaurant guests much more than the news of Berlioz’s death.

The first to worry were the reckless drivers who were on duty at the gates of the Griboedov house. One of them could be heard, standing up on the box, shouting:

Ty! Just look!

Then, out of nowhere, a light flashed at the cast-iron grate and began to approach the veranda. Those sitting at the tables began to rise and peer and saw that a white ghost was walking towards the restaurant along with the light. When it approached the trellis itself, everyone seemed stiff at the tables with pieces of sterlet on their forks and their eyes wide. The doorman, who at that moment came out of the door of the restaurant hanger into the courtyard to smoke, trampled on his cigarette and moved towards the ghost with the obvious purpose of blocking his access to the restaurant, but for some reason he did not do this and stopped, smiling stupidly.

And the ghost, passing through the hole in the trellis, unhinderedly entered the veranda. Then everyone saw that this was not a ghost at all, but Ivan Nikolaevich Bezdomny, a famous poet.

He was barefoot, wearing a torn whitish sweatshirt, to which a paper icon with a faded image of an unknown saint was pinned to the chest with a safety pin, and wearing striped white underpants. Ivan Nikolaevich carried a lit wedding candle in his hand. Ivan Nikolaevich’s right cheek was freshly torn. It is difficult to even measure the depth of the silence that reigned on the veranda. One of the waiters could be seen leaking beer from a mug that was tilted to one side onto the floor.

The poet raised the candle above his head and said loudly:

Hello, friends! - after which he looked under the nearest table and exclaimed sadly: - No, he’s not here!

The job is done. Delirium tremens.

And the second, female, frightened, uttered the words:

How did the police let him through the streets like that?

Ivan Nikolaevich heard this and responded:

They wanted to detain me twice, in the tablecloth and here on Bronnaya, but I swung over the fence and, you see, tore my cheek! - here Ivan Nikolaevich raised a candle and cried out: - Brothers in literature! (His hoarse voice strengthened and became hot.) Listen to me, everyone! He has appeared! Catch him immediately, otherwise he will do untold mischief!

What? What? What did he say? Who showed up? - voices came from all sides.

Consultant! - Ivan answered, - and this consultant has now killed Misha Berlioz in the Patriarchal.

Here, from the inner hall, people poured onto the veranda, and a crowd moved around Ivanov’s fire.

Guilty, guilty, tell me more precisely,” a quiet and polite voice was heard over Ivan’s ear, “tell me, how did he kill?” Who killed?

Foreign consultant, professor and spy! - Ivan responded, looking around.

What's his last name? - they asked quietly in his ear.

That's a surname! - Ivan shouted in anguish, - if only I knew the name! I didn’t notice the last name on the business card... I only remember the first letter “Ve”, the last name starts with “Ve”! What is this surname starting with “Ve”? - Ivan asked himself, clutching his forehead with his hand, and suddenly muttered: “Ve, ve, ve!” Wa... Wo... Washner? Wagner? Weiner? Wegner? Winter? - the hair on Ivan’s head began to move from tension.

Wulf? - some woman cried out pitifully.

Ivan got angry.

Stupid! - he shouted, looking for the screamer with his eyes. - What does Wulf have to do with it? Wulf is not to blame for anything! Whoa, whoa... No! I don’t remember! Well, here's what, citizens: call the police now so that they can send five motorcycles with machine guns to catch the professor. Don’t forget to say that there are two more with him: some long, checkered one... the pince-nez is cracked... and a black, fat cat. In the meantime, I’ll search Griboyedov... I sense that he’s here!

Ivan became restless, pushed those around him, began waving the candle, pouring wax on himself, and looking under the tables. Then the word was heard: “Doctors!” - and someone’s tender, fleshy face, shaved and well-fed, wearing horn-rimmed glasses, appeared in front of Ivan.

Comrade Bezdomny,” this person spoke in a jubilee voice, “calm down!” You are upset by the death of our beloved Mikhail Alexandrovich... no, just Misha Berlioz. We all understand this very well. You need peace. Now your comrades will take you to bed, and you will forget...

“Do you,” Ivan interrupted, baring his teeth, “do you understand that you need to catch the professor?” And you come at me with your nonsense! Cretin!

Comrade Bezdomny, have mercy,” answered the face, blushing, backing away and already repenting that he had gotten involved in this matter.

No, I won’t have mercy on anyone, but you,” Ivan Nikolaevich said with quiet hatred.

A spasm distorted his face, he quickly transferred the candle from his right hand to his left, swung it wide and hit the sympathetic face in the ear.

Then they guessed to rush at Ivan - and rushed. The candle went out, and the glasses, which had come off his face, were instantly trampled upon. Ivan let out a terrible battle cry, audible to the general temptation even on the boulevard, and began to defend himself. Dishes clattered as they fell from the tables, and women screamed.

While the waiters were tying the poet up with towels, a conversation was going on in the locker room between the brig commander and the porter.

Did you see that he was wearing underpants? - the pirate asked coldly.

But, Archibald Archibaldovich,” the doorman answered, cowardly, “how can I not let them in if they are a member of MASSOLIT?”

Did you see that he was wearing underpants? - repeated the pirate.

For pity’s sake, Archibald Archibaldovich,” the doorman said, turning purple, “what can I do?” I understand myself, the ladies are sitting on the veranda.

The ladies have nothing to do with it, the ladies don’t care,” answered the pirate, literally burning the doorman with his eyes, “but the police don’t care!” A person in underwear can walk along the streets of Moscow only in one case, if he is accompanied by the police, and only to one place - to the police station! And you, if you are a doorman, should know that when you see such a person, you should, without hesitating for a second, start whistling. Can you hear?

The maddened doorman heard hooting, breaking dishes and women's screams from the veranda.

Well, what can I do with you for this? - asked the filibuster.

The skin on the doorman's face took on a typhoid hue, and his eyes became deadened. It seemed to him that his black hair, now parted in the middle, was covered with fiery silk. The plastron and tailcoat disappeared, and the handle of a pistol appeared behind the belt. The porter imagined himself hanged from the fore-yard yard. With his own eyes he saw his own protruding tongue and his lifeless head falling on his shoulder, and even heard the splash of a wave overboard. The doorman's knees buckled. But then the filibuster took pity on him and extinguished his sharp gaze.

A quarter of an hour later, the extremely amazed public, not only in the restaurant, but also on the boulevard itself and in the windows of the houses overlooking the restaurant’s garden, saw how from the Griboedov gate Panteley, the doorman, the policeman, the waiter and the poet Ryukhin carried out a young man swaddled like a doll , who, bursting into tears, spat, trying to hit Ryukhin, choked on his tears and shouted:

Bastard!

The driver of the truck with an angry face started the engine. Nearby, a reckless driver was whipping up a horse, beating it on the croup with lilac reins, and shouting:

But on the treadmill! I took him to the mental hospital!

The crowd was buzzing all around, discussing the unprecedented incident; in a word, there was an ugly, vile, seductive, swinish scandal that ended only when the truck carried away the unfortunate Ivan Nikolaevich, the policeman, Pantelei and Riukhin from the Griboedov gate.

RUB 700,000 (95x145 turnkey)

RUB 747,000 (145x145 turnkey)

RUB 813,000 (195x145 turnkey)

RUB 384,000 (95x145 for shrinkage)

RUB 431,000 (145x145 for shrinkage)

RUB 490,000 (195x145 for shrinkage)

Order

The cost of the project includes assembly!

We work with maternal capital And subsidies for construction!

Dear Client of the ElBrus company! The project can be changed according to your requirements– change in overall dimensions, roof type, movement of partitions, windows, doors and stairs. We will listen to you carefully and together with you we will make your dream come true!

Basic complete set of a turnkey house:

1. Height:Attic floor:2.3 m.
2. Base: Reinforced -Beam 150x150(h) mm.
3. Sex joists: Reinforced -Beam 100x150(h) mm. The log step is 0.7-0.8 m.
4. Subfloor:Bars 40x50 mm.Board (edged) 100x20 mm.
5. Finish floor: 36 mm thick tongue and groove board.
6. Walls:Profiled timber 95x145(h) mm. 145x145(h) mm. or 190x145(h Atmospheric drying timber.
7. Partitions 1st floor:Profiled timber 95x145(h) mm. Sawed into load-bearing walls. Atmospheric drying timber.
8. Intercrown insulation:
9. Corner assembly: Warm corner.
10. Assembly of the log house:
11. Insulation:The floor, interfloor ceiling, and attic are insulated with Knauf mineral wool (or its equivalent) 100 mm thick.
12. Vapor barrier:"Izospan" (or its equivalent). Mounted on both sides of the insulation.
13. Interfloor covering:
14. Attic frame:Beam 40x100(h) mm.
15. Partitions 2-storey:Frame. Beam 40x100 mm.
16. Interior finish: Dry softwood lining 14-16 mm thick. Skirting 35-40 mm – floor, ceiling and corners of the walls of the building. Profiled timber is not sheathed because planed and does not require finishing.
17. Rafters and sheathing:h) mm. Lathing: board (edged) 100x20 mm.
18. Skate height:3.3-3.5 m.
19. Roof:Wavy leaf - ondulin.
20. Windows:wooden - 1.0x1.2(h) m. with double glazing, single doors. With fittings.
21. Doors:Entrance: metal- 2.05x0.8 m. Interior: wooden paneled - 2.05x0.8 m. With fittings.
22. Ladder:Wooden with railings and turned balusters. The bowstring is made of timber 95x145(h) mm. Steps 200x40 mm. They dig into the bowstring. The angle of inclination, pitch and height of the steps are determined locally and agreed with the Customer.
23. Terrace and balcony:Railings and carved (flat) balusters.
24. Interior and exterior finishing completed galvanized nails.

Complete set of the house without finishing:

1. Height:1st floor 2.35 m (17 crowns of timber).Attic floor:2.3 m.
2. Base: Reinforced -Beam 150x150(h) mm.
3. Sex joists: Reinforced -Beam 100x150(h) mm. The log step is 0.7-0.8 m.
4. Subfloor:Bars 40x50 mm. Board (edged) 100x20 mm.
5. Walls:Profiled timber 95x145(h) mm. 145x145(h) mm. or 190x145(h) mm. depending on the selected thickness. Atmospheric drying timber. You can choose the type of timber: straight or semi-oval.
6. Partitions 1st floor:Profiled timber 95x145(h) mm. Sawed into load-bearing walls. Atmospheric drying timber.
7. Intercrown insulation:Flax-jute fabric 5 mm thick. Width according to the selected timber thickness.
8. Corner assembly: Warm corner.
9. Assembly of the log house:Metal dowel (nails 200 mm).
10. Interfloor covering:Beam 40x150(h) mm. In 0.5 m increments.
11. Attic frame:Beam 40x100(h) mm.
12. Rafters and sheathing:The rafters are made of timber 40x100(h) mm.Lathing: board (edged) 100x20mm.
13. Pediments, corners and skylights:Softwood lining 14-16 mm thick.
14. Skate height:3.3-3.5 m.
15. Roof:Wavy leaf - ondulin. Color of choice: red, brown, green.
16. Exterior finishing completed galvanized nails.

Additional services:

• Dry profiled timber 95x145 mm. 53,000 rub.
• Dry profiled timber 145x145 mm. 58,000 rub.
• Pile-screw foundation. 72,000 rub.
• Tape-reinforced foundation 300x700(h) mm. 202,000 rub.
• Countersinking of nails (countersinking). 12,000 rub.
• 50% discount! Assembling timber walls on wooden dowels. 31,000 rub.
• Double piping of the base - timber 150x150 mm. 18,000 rub.
• Additional crown made of timber – 95x145 mm. 18,000 rub.
• Additional crown made of timber – 145x145 mm. 20,000 rub.
• Additional timber partition 1 l.m. – 95×145 mm. 4,500 rub.
• Additional frame partition 1 l.m. – 40×100 mm. 4,000 rub.
• Gables made of profiled timber – 95x145 mm. 50,000 rub.
• Gables made of profiled timber – 145x145 mm. 68,000 rub.
• Window sill with projection 150 mm. 1,000 rub.
• Additional installation window. 4,000 rub.
• Additional door with installation. 4,000 rub.
• PVC window (single-chamber) – 1.0x1.2 m. 6,000 rub.
• Royki - shrinkage block (for 1 opening). 2,000 rub.
• Roofing membrane film. 16,000 rub.
• Roofing metal tile "Monterey" - thickness 0.4 - 0.5 mm. 53,000 rub.
• Treating the base, joists, subfloors with an antiseptic. 16,000 rub.
• Painting the outside of the house - Aquatex. 70,000 rub.
• Change house for crew accommodation - 2.3x3.0 m. 17,000 rub.
• Generator rental for the entire construction period (customer’s gasoline). 12,000 rub.

Photo report of the project:

This fall we offer you a new format of excursions. Walking around the city is getting colder and colder, and I just want to combine bus excursions with something like that: so that I don’t just end the tour at the metro station, but come... for a holiday. For example, to a musical concert or a historical ball... Interesting? Then listen in order!

Moscow vandals continue to test the strength of the city government and civil society. Three months had not passed since the loud scandal on Arbat, 41, when the builders defiantly disobeyed the order of the Moscow City Heritage Department to suspend uncoordinated work, when a similar drama unfolded at Novaya Basmannaya, 13/2, building 1. And again the victim is a pre-fire Moscow house.

The capital's authorities have abandoned plans to create a public council for the preservation of historical buildings at the Moscow City Hall. “The creation of a public council under the Moscow mayor’s office is currently irrelevant,” First Deputy Mayor Vladimir Resin said on Wednesday.

August 15, 2011 | “Grigory Revzin, Kommersant Vlast magazine, No. 32 (936), 08/15/2011”

On August 9, the house at 25 Bolshoi Kozikhinsky Lane was demolished. Before this, 50 employees of an unknown security company beat up local residents who were guarding the building from demolition. Special correspondent of Kommersant Publishing House Grigory Revzin has dispelled the last illusions about Sobyanin’s Moscow.

Over the weekend, the capital almost lost another historical building - a three-story 19th-century mansion was demolished. in Bolshoi Kozikhinsky Lane, 25.
Concerned Muscovites are trying to defend every building. And memorial events are held near the demolished houses. A month ago, on the night of the “long ladles,” the outbuilding of the estate of the Shakhovskys, Glebovs, and Streshnevs was destroyed, and now every evening members of the public movement “Arkhnadzor” light candles near the destroyed building.

The book is made up of essays about interesting houses, their former owners and inhabitants, supplemented with photographs from different years and maps of the area. The manner of presentation is very varied - from complex architectural and restoration terminology to funny oddities and urban legends. And no wonder: among the authors of the series are Moscow scholars of various specializations. With this book you can safely go on a local history walk (although its volume, frankly speaking, does not in any way resemble a pocket guide).

On January 30, an interesting exhibition opened briefly in Moscow. Few visitors, who entered there with invitation cards, were able to see with their own eyes the materials of the stand “Restoration. Dialogue of the past with the present”, prepared by the Committee for Cultural Heritage of the City of Moscow for participation in the VIII European exhibition on restoration, protection of monuments and urban renewal Denkmal, held in Leipzig in November 2008. It is known that it was at this exhibition that Moscow received the Remmers Prize - the central event of the exhibition, according to the interpretation of the Russian media. Natalya Samover looked into what the Remmers Prize actually is.

Scaffolding has been removed from the new Voentorg building in Moscow on Vozdvizhenka. Expert historians turn away with contempt; the Moscow government is content with the Muscovites. About the new Voentorg - Grigory Kommersant-REVZIN. Kommersant, August 6, 2008.

Once upon a time, such buildings were new to old Moscow. Today, only Moscow scholars are interested in monuments of constructivism. Read more about the fate of the Narkomfin house in the article by Natalya Davydova and Nikolai Morozov. Izvestia, March 14, 2008.

Infill development was banned on paper. In fact, a comprehensive reconstruction project can also become infill development. An example is the reconstruction of Crimean Square. Details in the article by Nikita Aronov. Supplement to the newspaper "Kommersant" dated February 20, 2008.

The Ministry of Culture of the Russian Federation and the Moscow government signed a final agreement on the division of responsibility for monuments of national significance located on the territory of the city. As Mayor Yuri Luzhkov clarified on Friday, about 1.2 thousand historical, cultural and architectural monuments have come under the responsibility of the capital’s authorities. In total, in Moscow, according to Luzhkov’s calculations, there are 4.66 thousand monuments. Details are published in the article by Kira Remneva. "Newspaper", November 26, 2007.

Historical fact: the gigantic fire of 1812 almost completely changed the architectural appearance of Moscow. Until then, it resembled a huge village, randomly built up with wooden estates, then it began to be built up mainly with stone mansions. Many houses, on the walls of which there are plaques immortalizing their inhabitants, are actually rebuilt after the fire. For example, "Griboedov's house" on Novinsky Boulevard. Kommersant House, No. 196, October 25, 2007.

There are hundreds of places in Moscow that today we can only see in old photographs and paintings. One of them. Zaryadye. In the article “Heavenly Posad Zaryadye of Dreams and Reality,” Alexander Mozhaev tried to walk around an area that none of us had ever been to. “Russian Life”, August 31, 2007.

The Moscow State Conservatory has been in critical condition for a long time. But, despite this, repair work in 17 emergency rooms has not been carried out and, moreover, they continue to be actively used. About the future of the Moscow Conservatory Varvara Turova, Kommersant, July 13, 2006.

Moscow is increasingly changing beyond recognition. And very soon the capital will have its own “Galaxy” in the area of ​​Michurinsky Prospekt. Details in the article by Eduard Vorotnikov. “Komsomolskaya Pravda”, March 21, 2007.

House No. 13с1- a modest six-story house, rebuilt in 1941 from a three-story apartment building of the Knyazevs. Architect V. Zabel.

The poet Semyon Gudzenko lived in this house.

Further, in the depths of the boulevard between houses No. 13 and No. 15 there is house No. 11sa1(according to the old numbering, house No. 13) - the house of the late 18th century belonged to Prince P.N. Obolensky, father of the Decembrist Evgeniy Petrovich Obolensky, was considered unpreserved, but thanks to the research of Moscow experts, it was found and skillfully restored in 1983.

In 1812 the house burned, but was restored three years later. The western facade with the characteristic features of early Russian classicism, vaulted rooms on the 1st floor and a large hall on the 2nd main floor have been preserved.

The house is placed Matvey Kazakov in Album of the best Moscow buildings of the late 18th century.

Decembrists, members of the Northern Society, gathered in this house at E.P. Obolensky’s house
V. K. Kuchelbecker, I. I. Pushchin. and others.
Obolensky, Evgeniy Petrovich, Decembrist prince (1796 - 1865). He served as adjutant to the commander of the infantry of the Guards Corps, Adjutant General Bistrom. In 1817 he joined the Union of Welfare. Participated in the creation Northern Society in St. Petersburg and was part of its leadership.

Before December 14, Obolensky participated in the detailed development of the coup plan. When Trubetskoy, elected dictator, did not show up at Senate Square, Obolensky took command. Wounded during the uprising M. A. Miloradovich.
Obolensky was sentenced to death, which was commuted to eternal hard labor, and was sent to Siberia. In 1856, according to the manifesto, Obolensky returned to Russia, and his rights were returned to him.
In the book by V.A. Nikolsky’s “Old Moscow”, published in 1924, we read “Almost next to it (meaning Griboyedov’s house) there is again the remnant of old Moscow - a house (in the courtyard) that belonged to the Ryazan landowner Protasov, who was tempted by the introduction of wine farming by the distillery business and on it the house went bankrupt from Protasov to an important Moscow lady - senator Akhlestysheva - and to this day retains its appearance from the 1850s. Most likely, the book is about Obolensky's house.
House No. 17- The so-called "Griboyedovsky" house.

In fact, the house in which Alexander Sergeevich lived as a child has not survived. It burned down during the fire of Moscow in 1812.
Griboedov's mother, Nastasya Fedorovna, bought it in 1801 from her brother, who served as the prototype for Famusov in the comedy "Woe from Wit." The Griboedov yard was a typical small urban noble estate, fenced off with a board fence. Inside it stood a wooden one-story house with numerous services. The house had a large open gallery, from here it was good to watch the Podnovinsky festivities. Behind the courtyard there was a garden.
In 1814 - 1816, a new house was built; it was two-story with a mezzanine, its upper part (second floor and mezzanine) was wooden, the lower part was stone. In the Pushkin House there is a watercolor of the first half of the 19th century with the inscription “Podnovinskoe - view from the balcony of Gagarin’s former house; A.S. Griboyedov was born in the farthest house on the left.” In this watercolor the balcony and stucco decorations of the facade facing the boulevard are clearly visible.
On his few visits to Moscow, Griboyedov sometimes stayed here. The house was sold in March 1834, after the tragic death of the poet. In subsequent years, the house changed owners and was rebuilt several times.
This is what the house looked like at the beginning of the 20th century. Photo from the 1900s. On the left is Novinsky Boulevard, on the right is Bolshoy Devyatinsky Lane.


This house was also damaged by fire during the Second World War. This is what the house looked like in 1931. It’s hard to recognize.


It's him. Photo 1956


In the early 1970s, when the restoration project was being prepared, a fire occurred in Griboyedov’s house again, almost completely destroying the upper, wooden floor. Restorers managed to restore it in stone, repeating the architectural appearance close to the original. The balcony with a lattice on the end facade along Novinsky Boulevard was restored, and stucco decoration was created based on old photographs and by analogy with details of other houses of that time.
This is what the house looks like now. View from B. Devyatinsky Lane.

Memorial plaque.

Continuation.

Other streets of Moscow and their attractions. Table of contents.

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