What happened to the descendants of Dostoevsky. Dostoevsky's great-grandson spoke about the writer's bad habits

Son of a writer and He graduated from the St. Petersburg gymnasium, then the law and natural faculties of the University of Dorpat, was a major specialist in horse breeding and horse breeding. A.G. Dostoevskaya recalls: “Eight days after arrival in St. Petersburg, on July 16<1871 г.>, early in the morning, our eldest son Fedor was born. I felt ill the day before. Fyodor Mikhailovich, who had been praying all day and all night for a successful outcome, later told me that he had decided, if a son was born, at least ten minutes before midnight, to name him Vladimir, the name of the Holy Equal-to-the-Apostles Prince Vladimir, whose memory is celebrated on July 15. But the baby was born on the 16th and was named Fedor, in honor of his father, as we decided long ago. Fyodor Mikhailovich was terribly happy both that a boy was born and that the family “event” that worried him so much had successfully taken place ”( Dostoevskaya A.G. Memories. 1846-1917. M.: Boslen, 2015. S. 257).

Fyodor Fyodorovich Dostoevsky. Simferopol. 1902.

On the same day, July 16, 1871, Dostoevsky wrote to A.N. Snitkina, mother A.G. Dostoevskaya: “Today, at six o'clock in the morning, God gave us a son, Fyodor. Anya kisses you. She is in very good health, but the agony was terrible, although not long. I suffered in total for seven hours. But thank God, everything was right. The grandmother was Pavel Vasilievna Nikiforova. The doctor came today and found everything excellent. Anya was already sleeping and eating. The child, your grandson, is unusually large and healthy. We all bow to you and kiss you ... "

Dostoevsky all the years enthusiastically treated his son Fedya. "Here is Fedka ( was born here six days after arrival (!), - Dostoevsky wrote to the doctor S.D. Yanovsky on February 4, 1872 - now six months old) would probably have received a prize at last year's London exhibition of infants (just so as not to jinx it!). "Fedya has my<характер>, my innocence, - Dostoevsky noted in a letter to A.G. Dostoevskaya dated July 15 (27), 1876 - I can only boast of this, although I know that you yourself, perhaps more than once, laughed at my innocence.

As if predicting the future fate of his son, a specialist in horse breeding, A.G. Dostoevskaya recalls: “Our eldest son, Fedya, was extremely fond of horses from infancy, and, living for years in Staraya Russa, Fyodor Mikhailovich and I were always afraid that his horses would hurt him: two or three years old, he sometimes escaped from old nanny, ran to a strange horse and hugged her leg. Fortunately, the horses were country horses, accustomed to the fact that children were spinning around them, and therefore everything went well. When the boy grew up, he began to ask for a live horse as a gift. Fyodor Mikhailovich promised to buy, but somehow it could not be done. I bought a foal in May 1880...” ( Dostoevskaya A.G. Memories. 1846-1917. M.: Boslen, 2015. S. 413).

“The Christmas tree of 1872 was special: our eldest son, Fedya, was present for the first time “consciously,” writes A.G. Dostoevskaya. - The Christmas tree was lit early, and Fyodor Mikhailovich solemnly led his two chicks into the living room.

The children were, of course, amazed by the glowing lights, decorations and toys that surrounded the Christmas tree. They were given gifts by the Pope: daughters - a lovely doll and tea doll utensils, son - a large trumpet, into which he immediately blew, and a drum. But the biggest effect on both children was made by two bay horses from the folder, with magnificent manes and tails. They were harnessed to popular popular sleds, wide, for two. The children threw away their toys and got into the sled, and Fedya, seizing the reins, began to wave them and drive the horses. The girl, however, soon got bored with the sled, and she turned to other toys. It was not so with the boy: he lost his temper with delight; shouted at the horses, struck the reins, probably remembering how the peasants passing by our dacha in Staraya Russa did it. Only by some trick did we manage to carry the boy out of the living room and put him to bed.

Fyodor Mikhailovich and I sat for a long time and recalled the details of our little holiday, and Fedor Mikhailovich was pleased with him, perhaps more than his children. I went to bed at twelve, and my husband boasted to me about a new book bought from Wolf today, very interesting for him, which he was going to read at night. But it was not there. About one o'clock he heard frantic weeping in the nursery, he immediately hurried there and found our boy, flushed from crying, escaping from the hands of old Prokhorovna and muttering some incomprehensible words(He was less than a year and a half old and still spoke vaguely). At the cry of the child, I woke up and ran to the nursery. Since Fedya's loud cry could wake his sister, who was sleeping in the same room, Fyodor Mikhailovich decided to take him to his office. When we were passing through the drawing-room, and by the light of the candle Fedya saw the sled, he instantly fell silent and with such force stretched his whole powerful body down to the sled that Fyodor Mikhailovich could not restrain him and found it necessary to put him there. Although tears continued to roll down the child's cheeks, he was already laughing, grabbed the reins and began to wave and smack them again, as if to drive horses. When the child, apparently, had completely calmed down, Fyodor Mikhailovich wanted to take him to the nursery, but Fedya burst into bitter weeping and wept until he was again put into the sledge. Here my husband and I, at first frightened by a mysterious illness for us that had happened to the child, and having already decided, despite the night, to invite a doctor, understood what was the matter: obviously, the boy’s imagination was amazed by the Christmas tree, toys and the pleasure that he experienced, sitting in a sleigh, and now, waking up at night, he remembered the horses and demanded his new toy. And since his demand was not satisfied, he raised a cry, which achieved his goal. What was to be done: the boy finally, as they say, "looked around" and did not want to go to sleep. In order not to keep all three awake, we decided that the nurse and I would go to bed, and Fyodor Mikhailovich would sit with the boy and, when he got tired, take him to bed. And so it happened. The next day my husband merrily complained to me:

- Well, Fedya tortured me at night! I did not take my eyes off him for two or three hours, I was always afraid that he would wriggle out of the sleigh and hurt himself. Already the nanny came twice to call him "bainki", and he waves his arms and wants to cry again. So they sat together until five o'clock. Then he, apparently, got tired and began to lean to the side. I supported him, and, I see,<он>fell asleep soundly, and I carried him to the nursery. So I didn’t have to start the book I bought, ”Fyodor Mikhailovich laughed, apparently extremely pleased that the incident, which at first frightened us, ended so well” ( Dostoevskaya A.G. Memories. 1846-1917. M.: Boslen, 2015. S. 294-295).

August 13 (25), 1879 Dostoevsky in a letter to A.G. Dostoyevsky from Bad Ems asked her anxiously: “You write about Fed that he keeps going to the boys. He is in precisely such years when there is a crisis from the 1st childhood to conscious comprehension. I notice a lot of deep features in his character, and the only thing is that he is bored where another (ordinary) child would not even think to be bored. But here's the problem: this is the age at which former activities, games and sympathies change to others. He would have needed a book for a long time, so that he would gradually love to read meaningfully. I already read something in his summer. Now, having nothing to do, he instantly falls asleep. But soon he will start looking for other and already bad consolations if there is no book. And he still can't read. If you knew how I think about it here and how it worries me. And when will he learn? Everything is learning, not learning!”

However, Dostoevsky worried in vain. Having received two higher education, Fedor Fedorovich was "before the October Revolution, a very wealthy man" ( Volotskoy M.V. Chronicle of the family of Dostoevsky. 1506-1933. M., 1933. S. 133). His childhood friend, later attorney at law V.O. Levenson recalls: “Fyodor Fedorovich was a man of unconditional ability, with strong will persistent in achieving the goal. He behaved with dignity and forced to respect himself in any society. Painfully proud and conceited, he strove to be the first everywhere. A great passion for sports, he skated very well and even took prizes. He tried to prove himself in the literary field, but soon became disillusioned with his abilities.<...>. In the development of Fyodor Fedorovich's personality, an extremely negative and painful role was played by the label "Dostoevsky's son", which was so firmly stuck to him and haunted him throughout his life. He was jarred by the fact that when he was introduced to someone, they invariably added "the son of F.M. Dostoevsky", after which he usually had to listen to the same phrases he had heard an infinite number of times, answer questions that had long been boring etc. But he was especially tormented by that atmosphere of close attention and expectation from him of something exceptional, which he so often felt around him. With his isolation and painful pride, all this served as a constant source of his painful experiences, one might say disfigured his character ”(Ibid., pp. 137-138).

The second wife of Fedor Fedorovich E.P. Dostoevskaya tells about him: “He inherited extreme nervousness from his father. Closed, suspicious, secretive (he was frank with only very few people, in particular with his childhood friend, later a barrister V.O. Levenson). Never been cheerful. Like his father, he is prone to gambling, as well as to reckless extravagance. In general, in relation to money spending, the same broad nature as his father. In the same way, like his father (and also his son Andrei), uncontrollably quick-tempered, and sometimes afterwards he did not even remember his outbursts. Usually, after difficult periods of nervousness, he sought to atone for his behavior with increased gentleness and kindness ”(Ibid., p. 138).

Civil wife of Fedor Fedorovich since May 16, 1916 L.S. Michaelis left memories of him with the addition of poems by Fyodor Fedorovich dedicated to her: “He read and loved literature, mainly classical. Of contemporary writers, he loved L. Andreev, Kuprin, and a few others. He treated most of the young poets who performed at one time in Moscow cafes with derision. He himself also loved to write poems and stories, but, having written, he destroyed them. Only a few things I managed to save and save.

Many views of Fyodor Mikhailovich were completely alien to his son. So, for example, he could never understand his father and agree with him in his views on the universal significance of the Russian people. Fedor Fedorovich held much more modest views on the qualities of the Russian people, in particular, he always considered him very lazy, rude and prone to cruelty.

I will also point out that he hated the monument to Dostoevsky by the sculptor Merkurov, opened in 1918 on Tsvetnoy Boulevard, and repeatedly said with what pleasure he would have blown up with dynamite the mutilated, in his opinion, figure of his father.

There was a lot of not only contradictory, but simply careless in it. (By the way, he found a great similarity between himself and Dmitri Karamazov). This was especially true in his attitude to money. If he received a large sum money, he would start by working out some very reasonable plan for what he would use the money for. But immediately after this, the most unnecessary and unproductive spending began ( common feature with Father). The most unexpected and strange purchases were made, and as a result, in a short time, the entire amount disappeared, and he asked me with surprise: "Where did you and I put all the money so quickly?"

Fyodor Fedorovich's carelessness and extravagance were combined, strange as it may seem, with great pedantry and accuracy in some of his actions. He always kept his promise. He was extremely accurate when scheduling meetings - he himself always came to the minute at the appointed time and lost his temper when the one with whom he persuaded to meet was at least 10 minutes late<...> ».

Poems by F.F. Dostoevsky

I'm away from you now and I'm full of you
Feelings are tremulous, thoughts are happy
My life, the East caught fire at dawn!
You, Night of the Past, disappear silently!

Cold heart and cold feelings.
Tired analysis of everything.
So the barren soil is bound by cold,
It won't give you anything.
But revived again, warmed by the sun,
In the spring, washed with dew,
Wonderful green luxuriously dressed,
The former shines with beauty.
So be you the sun, welcome in the spring,
Take a look - and warm the rays.
Would you be joy
so long awaited
Come, come quickly!

I need you and your voice
I hear with joyful excitement,
Catching with hot impatience
The tone of the words you answered.
Understand that voices tint
Gives me everything in a single moment:
Ile joy victorious click,
Ile torture moral dungeon.

In the Tango pub

White tablecloth, lights in crystal,
Fruit vase, gloves, two roses,
Two wine glasses, a crown on the table.
And wearily careless poses.
Romance words, music sounds.
Sharp faces, strange movements,
Bare shoulders and bare arms
Cigarette smoke, vague desires...

(Ibid., pp. 141, 145-147).

In 1926, on August 18, in the newspaper “Rul”, published in Berlin in Russian, an article “Son of Dostoevsky (Page of Memoirs)” appeared, signed with the initials E.K. publication of manuscripts left after the death of F.M. Dostoevsky. This transfer of manuscripts abroad reminds me of the sad story of the son of the late great writer F.F. Dostoevsky, also already deceased. In 1918, Fedor Fedorovich made his way with incredible difficulties to the Crimea, where his mother, the widow of the great writer, A.G., was mortally ill. Dostoevskaya. After burying his mother, Fedor Fedorovich remained in the Crimea, where, after the evacuation of the Crimea by the Wrangel army, he fell into the hands of the Bolsheviks. What was done there in those days is beyond description.

In any case, in order to vividly and truthfully portray the infernal horror and the satanic bacchanalia that was then taking place in the Crimea, a new Dostoevsky is needed.

For my part, I will confine myself to pointing out little fact: the executioner-tourer sent by the All-Russian Central Executive Committee to the Crimea, Bela Kun, showed such unprecedented and unheard-of cruelty even for the "Red Terror" that another executioner, far from sentimental, Chekist Kedrov, sent a telegram to the All-Russian Central Executive Committee in which he asked "to stop the aimless massacre."

It was during this period that Fedor Fedorovich was arrested. At night they brought him to some barracks in Simferopol. The interrogator, some drunken fellow in a leather jacket, with swollen red eyelids and a sunken nose, began the "interrogation" in the following form:

- Why did you come here?

- In 1918 I came here to my dying mother and stayed here.

- To the mother ... mother ... the bastard himself, go already grandfather and also mother-r-r-i ...

Dostoevsky was silent.

- Shoot!

The executions took place right there, in the yard, and while the interrogation was going on, shots were heard every minute. Seven "investigators" were working in the barracks at the same time. Dostoevsky was immediately seized and dragged towards the courtyard. Then, beside himself, he shouted:

- Scoundrels, monuments are being erected to my father in Moscow, and you are shooting me.

Noseless, apparently embarrassed and slurred: "What are you talking about? What father? What monuments? What is your last name?"

- My surname is D-o-s-t-o-e-vsky.

— Dostoevsky? Never heard.

Fortunately, at that moment a small, dark, nimble man ran up to the investigator and began to whisper something quickly in his ear.

The noseless man slowly raised his head, stupidly looked with inflamed eyelids in the direction of Dostoevsky and said: "Go to hell as long as you're intact."

In 1923 Dostoevsky returned to Moscow completely ill. He was desperately in need, and when his acquaintances found out about this and rushed to him, they found a depressing picture - Fedor Fedorovich was dying of hunger. They did everything in their power ... they called the doctor, but it was too late; the body was so exhausted that it could not stand it.

When Dostoevsky was already lying dead on his wretched wooden bed, the silence of death was broken by the appearance of Lunacharsky, sent from the "pea jester", who, after two months of Dostoevsky's fuss about issuing him temporary assistance, finally arrived on time, as always, having sent 23 rubles from the People's Commissariat of Education. 50 k. Unfortunately, Lunacharsky's participation in Dostoevsky's affairs was not limited to this. Before his death, Dostoevsky handed over a sealed package to his friend, which contained letters and manuscripts of Fyodor Mikhailovich. Fedor Fedorovich begged to transfer these papers into the hands of his son, the grandson of the great writer.

Lunacharsky found out about this, demanded this package for making copies and photographs, and undertook honestly return all papers. It is hardly worth adding that neither papers, nor copies, nor photographs have ever been seen again. What Lunacharsky received for the manuscripts that went abroad, I do not know.

There are errors and inaccuracies in these memoirs, for example, it is known that Fedor Fedorovich could not bury his mother, but ended up in Yalta, where she died, only after her death. He could not return to Moscow in 1923, since he died in Moscow on January 4, 1922. However, his son, the writer's grandson, Andrei Fyodorovich Dostoevsky, in 1965, in a conversation with S.V. Belov, not knowing about this article in the Rul newspaper, confirmed, according to his mother, E.P. Dostoevskaya, the fact that his father was arrested in the Crimea by the railway Cheka as a speculator: it was suspected that he was carrying contraband in metal cans and baskets, but in fact there were manuscripts of Dostoevsky that survived after Anna Grigorievna Dostoevsky, which Fyodor Fedorovich, by the way, specially handed over to the Center. archive (see: Belov S.V."To Fyodor Dostoevsky - from grateful demons" // Literator. 1990. June 22. No. 22).

There are 2 letters from Dostoevsky to his son for 1874 and 1879.

Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky left behind not only a great literary heritage, but also posterity. Married to his first wife Maria Dmitrievna, the writer had no children, but his second wife Anna Grigoryevna bore him four. How was their fate? And what happened to the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of Fyodor Mikhailovich?

Children

Anna Grigorievna Dostoevskaya in her maiden name was Snitkin and was the daughter of a petty official. Anna Grigoryevna met the writer when she worked for him as a stenographer. The spouses had a big age difference (more than 20 years), but this did not stop family happiness and the birth of children.

Their first child, daughter Sophia, was born in 1868. However, in the same year she caught a cold and died. The girl was buried in one of the cemeteries of Geneva, where the Dostoevsky couple was at that moment.

Already in the next 1869, Anna Grigoryevna gave her husband a second daughter, Lyubov. It happened in Dresden, Germany. The girl was 12 years old when the writer himself passed away. Lyubov Fedorovna subsequently also took up a pen, wrote several stories and memoirs dedicated to her father, but neither one nor the other had much success. Even before the revolution, Dostoevskaya went abroad for treatment and never returned. She died in Italy at the age of 57 from a blood disease.

In 1871, the son Fedor appeared in St. Petersburg. In childhood and youth, he also wrote, but after him horses began to fascinate more. Fedor Fedorovich lived in the Crimea, where he was engaged in horse breeding. Dostoevsky Jr. died at the age of 51.

Another son Alexei, born in 1875, died when he was not even 3 years old. According to one version, the cause of death was epilepsy, which, as you know, his father also suffered from.

Grandchildren and great-grandchildren

Dostoyevsky's first son Fyodor had three children. The daughter of Fyodor Fedorovich died in infancy, and his son, Fyodor, also died at the age of 16. The latter wrote talented poems and could well become famous poet. The family was continued only by the second grandson of the writer Andrei, who was born in 1908. Andrei Fedorovich became an engineer. He lived in Leningrad and taught at a technical school.

Andrei Fedorovich, in turn, became the father of Dmitry, Dostoevsky's great-grandson. Dmitry Andreevich was born in 1945. His sister died in early childhood. The great-grandson of the writer worked all his life in working specialties: he was an electrician, fitter and even a tram driver. He lives to this day and lives in St. Petersburg. Dmitry Andreevich has a son Alexei and four grandchildren Anna, Vera, Maria and Fedor.

Brothers and sisters

Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky himself had three brothers and four sisters. Elder Mikhail not only wrote, but also translated. He died at 43. One of younger brothers writer Andrei became an architect, and the other Nikolai became an engineer.

Fyodor Mikhailovich's sister Varvara married wealthy man and became Karepina. She was extremely stingy and repeated the fate of the old pawnbroker from Crime and Punishment. Varvara Mikhailovna was killed by a janitor who coveted her savings.

Dostoevsky's other two sisters, Vera and Lyubov, turned out to be twins. Love died in infancy, and Vera registered a relationship with a certain Ivanov. Judging by the memoirs of the writer's contemporaries, Vera Mikhailovna's marriage was a happy one.

The youngest in the family, Alexandra Mikhailovna, went down the aisle twice and was first Golenovskaya, and after Shevyakova. Shevyakova, like Karepina, was not distinguished by generosity and even sued her siblings.

We continue to publish the editor's conversation Orthodox newspaper"Blagovest" by Anton Evgenievich Zhogolev with the great-grandson of the great writerDmitry Andreevich Dostoevsky.

character by inheritance

- Do you have any generic character traits that Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky had?

How can you say about your character? It is necessary to ask about the character of my wife Lyudmila Pavlovna. I am passionate, like Fedor Mikhailovich. Perhaps this brings us closer. It sits in all of us. It was not by chance that his son Fedor Fedorovich participated in horse races and won prizes. To gambling all of us, Dostoevsky, it is better not to approach a cannon shot.

Fyodor Mikhailovich about his second wife, Anna Grigoryevna, said this: "God gave her to me." His first marriage with Maria Dmitrievna Isaeva (Dostoevskaya) was difficult for him, he later became a widow. So for all of us, in the male line, the first marriage did not work out. Fedor Fedorovich divorced a year later. My father is in two years. And his second wife became my mother. And my first marriage was unsuccessful. He left after six months. But as he later got married, we have been living soul to soul for so many years! But I was worried, how will my son Alexei develop? And he is so glad that this sad “regularity” did not affect him. And here is another pattern. Fedor Mikhailovich died at the age of 60. Fedor Fedorovich died at the same age. At the age of 60, my father Andrei Fedorovich died. But somehow I slipped through. But I had to worry at this age.

All male Dostoevskys smoked and continue to smoke (I, unfortunately, am no exception). Aleksey even serves in the monastery, but still smokes. But after all, he rarely happens in the monastery itself, and more often swims. But drunkenness was not inherited. Fedor Mikhailovich at first liked to drink, although not to the detriment of work. But he threw it all at once, as he had once and for all abandoned the game of roulette. How cut off! The trouble with drunkenness on him in the family ended. And she didn't come back to us. Although a glass and you can drink.

- Fedor Mikhailovich, it seems, was gloomier than you ...

No, and he was not gloomy. I always ask: find Oskar von Schulz's book "The Bright, Cheerful Dostoevsky." He was a merry fellow both in literature and in life. Here is an example. Go F.M. and his wife Anna Grigorievna in Germany along a mountain path. They admire the beauties of the Rhine ... And then such a picturesque goat runs through. “Oh, what a beauty, what a goat,” exclaims Anna Grigoryevna. F.M. gloomily: “Well, into her soup!” I was able to joke...

A happy life is given to a person through some kind of suffering. F.M. there were so many of these sufferings in the first half of life! And then ... He wrote about this: "Only in suffering do you find happiness." And I had to suffer. My sufferings are my two illnesses.

- To any of the descendants of epilepsy from Dostoevsky was transmitted?

No, no one else got this disease. Later, both our specialists, and especially the Norwegian doctors, carefully studied Dostoevsky's epileptic seizures. And in no way can they shove into the Procrustean bed of the medical description of epilepsy what he was subjected to great writer. Dostoevsky's symptomatology goes beyond the scope of the disease. It was some kind of unique case. F.M. with their fits... ruled! Although according to science this is completely impossible. A real epileptic never knows when this will happen to him. And my great-grandfather knew when he would have a seizure. He said: “Anya, put a softer rug in front of the sofa, today it will be ...” And so it happened. The Norwegians studied a series of seizures described by him in his diary. At the same time, they correlated the state of the writer financially, creatively, and were amazed at the picture that opened up. We saw that he tried to ensure that these seizures interfered with writing as little as possible. For him, writing was not just creativity, but first and foremost a job. The craft that fed the family. And he did not want seizures to prevent him from earning his daily bread ...

- Maybe these seizures were some kind of "payment" for genius?

Maybe. In a sense, he had a prophetic gift. And the path to this gift lies through great sacrifices...

When they tell me that some of Dostoevsky's prophecies have not come true (“Constantinople must be ours!”), I answer like this: “The time has not come. Wait...” After all, it is not known when they will be fulfilled.

literary wanderings

- At least some penny went to your family for the reprinting of Dostoevsky's books?

When I was discharged from the hospital, I became an invalid of the second "non-working" group. Received a disability pension. And lost a lot of money. And according to my work book, I have 21 working specialties. I was eager to work! .. My main professions are a diamond cutter and a car driver. All my life I had two cravings - to the artistic profession and to the technical one. Both that and another I have intertwined. Since childhood, I can draw well, I even entered the Mukhinskoye school. But then just Khrushchev abolished military departments in universities, and I was taken into the army. Life went according to a different scenario, which I do not regret. He mastered his favorite profession as a crystal carver. He applied drawings to crystal vases. And since this was done by the so-called diamond wheel, and besides, since ancient times, the brilliant edge for cutting crystal is called diamond face, and because of this name, since the 19th century, people who apply these faces are called diamonds. Although it has nothing to do with diamonds. But such a beautiful name for my profession! Here I have reached considerable heights. And the carriage driver - technical profession. Then the trams were already with a difficult electric circuit. I could not only drive trams, but also repair them. Well, in the profession of a tram driver, I reached the ceiling. Became a first class driver. So all my life I was torn between creativity and technology. Leningrad at that time was the tram capital of the world. When I worked, our city had the largest length (in kilometers) of tram lines - in the world! This was the case until the early 1980s. By the way, I made very good money in the trampark. And this is for one simple reason, the authorities were so attentive to us. After all, the tram takes the proletariat to the factories. They didn’t joke with this then: the regional committee of the party controlled ...

Well, I ended up on disability, without money. For the first and only time, I had to turn to the literary fund for help. I went to Moscow, to the Union of Writers. Wrote an application for financial assistance. And they gave me something like 250 rubles. Crumbs ... With this money you could eat for a week. And when I was already leaving there with this miserable sum in my pocket, one of the writers in the twilight, in the corridor, put some more crumpled dozens in my pocket. And, smiling, he said: "On the publication of your great-grandfather's books, my friend, we all go abroad here to rest." And disappeared into the semi-darkness of the writer's corridor. Everything! I have never received a single ruble from Dostoevsky's books.

At the beginning of the 2000s, some direct fashion for Fyodor Mikhailovich was suddenly discovered. It was published in six regions complete collection compositions. Simultaneously! And so they came to me from one city (I will not name it). Nevertheless, we decided to turn to our descendants, to agree on a certain percentage for us from the sale of these books. Well, they sent a lady to Petersburg. We knew why she had come. To get acquainted with the life of the Dostoevsky family. We poured tea for her and talked. She looked around: there is a gas stove, there is a refrigerator. And the fact that we had mastered second-hand by this time, everyone bought there, since there was no money, she did not ask about this. And we are humble people. Well, she said in her publishing house: why should they pay money? And they live so well. Well, okay!..

But three years ago I was invited to Moscow for the Literary Assembly. I sat on the podium next to President Putin and the descendants of the classics - Tolstoy, Pushkin ... And there I managed to say what I thought a lot about. That it was precisely thanks to (and not in spite of!) penal servitude that we received the great writer Dostoevsky! These sufferings did him good. It was only there that he was able to get rid of social utopias and turned to Christ. It was with faith, and not with some kind of social reformism, that he began to associate the strengthening and great future of the country. At the investigation into the case of the Petrashevites, Dostoevsky admitted: “We wanted fix Christ." And in hard labor, he realized that it was their main mistake. No one is allowed to "correct" Christ. It is He who will “make right the works of our hands.”

"The Church Question" and Alyosha Karamazov

Dostoevsky in his mature years was a faithful child of the Church. But still, with pain, he noted individual negative points in church life. Have you thought about it?

How not to think? He has the following words in his diary: "The Church has been paralyzed since Peter the Great." Bitter words. But in a way they are fair. As shown by subsequent revolutionary events. He wanted to see the Church as a more active force in society. And without the Patriarchate (then the Church was led by the Holy Synod), this was difficult to achieve. Dostoevsky was tormented by the question of the relationship between the Church and the state. It was not for nothing that he went to the Heir to the Throne, communicated with the Grand Dukes. He spoke to them about the Church, and they listened to him... But he did not have time to realize his most important plan. Didn't write the second book of The Brothers Karamazov. It would be devoted specifically to the "church question." There he would have given the answer to many burning problems.

I think even today Dostoevsky would not be delighted with everything in our church life. For example, I met with Patriarch Pavle of Serbia. It was a big mover! So he walked around the city. Or traveled by bus. In public transport. He shook me with his face, his appearance. Then his cell-attendant told me that Patriarch Pavel loves to read and reread Dostoevsky...

- When they gave the name to their son Alexei, did the image of the novice Alyosha Karamazov pop up in your memory?

I actually wanted to call him Ivan. But then he changed his mind. I adhere to the theory that all three brothers Karamazov, Dmitry, Ivan and Alexei, are, as it were, three hypostases of one person’s personality in different periods his life: a rebellious, doubting and, finally, a believer... And Dostoevsky himself had all this.

- How did your son get to Valaam?

Alexei unexpectedly left the Pedagogical Institute, the Faculty of English Philology. He was the only guy in the whole course. And all around are girls. He is modest to me. Here he left. And in my footsteps. The habit of his childhood worked. After all, he spent his childhood with me in the tram park. He also began to work as a tram driver. He met his future wife Natalia. He arranged for her to work on the tram. So all three of us worked in the tram park. And then summons from the military registration and enlistment office began to come to him. You have to go to the army. This matter is necessary. I served, and my son needs to serve. But then the first war was going on in Chechnya, and, I confess, I did not want to give my only son to the front line. After all, our family needs to continue. And in the war they could be killed. But avoiding service is a sin! How to be? I found out that there is an Orthodox army unit on Valaam. Mostly the children of priests serve there, the morning there begins with prayer, fasting is observed. But to get there, you need a petition from the priest. Archpriest Gennady Belovolov, an employee of the Dostoevsky Museum, gave us such a direction. I once upon a time, back in Soviet years witnessed his confession Orthodox faith before the director of the museum, since then we have been friends ( read more about it). And Alexei went to the island of Valaam, to serve in the army. But Fyodor Mikhailovich had his own views on Alexei. In the fall, my son was late for the call, in anticipation of the spring call, he stayed for the winter on Valaam. Lived in a monastery. And then, at the medical examination, they found a stomach ulcer in him and gave him " white ticket". But he did not want to leave the monastery at all. After all, by that time he had received the so-called eternal blessing to stay in the monastery (not many are honored with this! I came to the court! Everything is strict there ...). And no matter how much my son loved trams, now he had to think about how to serve God and the monastery. And the family cannot be left without a piece of bread.

- Did he have thoughts of staying there as a monk?

Perhaps there were such thoughts. But by that time he was already married. And besides, he had a duty to continue our family.

He began to work on a ship with the name "Maria". Here we recalled the prophecy of Archimandrite Agafangel, said to Alexei during his baptism: "First you will be a sailor, then a priest." We were extremely surprised then: what kind of sailor? why priest? Everything is moving in this direction...

Now he commands the entire Valaam fleet. He has twelve rather large ships in his household, not counting the small ones. Once I sailed with him on a monastery ship. It's so exciting!.. And then there's the chatter! It's such an adrenaline rush… But we are Dostoevskys: we love it when it's stormy… It became clear to me why he loves his job so much. He also has the most convenient schedule for family life- He is fifteen days on Valaam, and fifteen days at home. I pray for my son, "for those who are at sea." And - calm for him.

Dostoevo - ancestral land

- And where do the roots of your surname come from?

I had a chance to visit Belarus, Dostoevo, where our race began. I think the most the best monument Dostoevsky put just in Dostoevo. There is also a large church there, it was built, one might say, in memory of the writer. In 1506, our ancestor received this estate as a gift from Pinsk prince Fyodor Ivanovich Yaroslavovich. That ancestor's name was Danila Rtishchev - he must have had a big mouth. Already in Dostoev, two sons were born to him. One of them was given double surname Rtishchev-Dostoevsky. BUT next generations clans bore the same surname Dostoevsky.

When these lands passed to Poland for some time, all the Dostoevskys left their native places for Volyn, Podolsk, and Little Russia. And the only one of the Dostoevskys came to Russia, to Moscow. It was he who became the progenitor of the world genius.

On the coat of arms of the noble family of Dostoevsky is depicted hand with sword. This is unusual, because among the ancestors of Dostoevsky there were no military men. But later I learned from ancient sources that we used to call knights like this: worthy(this is close to the name of the village Dostoevo). And then came the definition of this knight, like a nickname. Apparently, the first owners of Dostoev were still warriors.

It has been calculated that in our family I am already the sixteenth Dostoevsky. And almost all of our ancestors were priests. Dostoevsky's grandfather was Orthodox priest. Moreover, in our family there were not only Orthodox priests. There was also a Catholic priest, and even a Uniate one. There is a unique document that describes how two Dostoevskys, an Orthodox priest and a Uniate priest, each take their own village flock and go to “war” against each other ... Then even a “case” of beating the villagers is started. We have such complex family branches. By the way, in that sad battle between the two Dostoevskys, our Orthodox, after all, beat the Latins...

Dostoevsky Museum

... Twenty years ago, two old women came to us at the Dostoevsky Museum. They said that they were sisters and great-granddaughters of Dostoevsky's stepson - Isaev (the son of his first wife from her first marriage). It turns out that Pavel Alexandrovich Isaev, who upset his great stepfather a lot with his consumer attitude to life, then finally took up his mind, served, made a career, happily married ... So, he was influenced by moral example writer. And these old women remembered both their great-grandfather and his adoptive father - Dostoevsky - kind word.

- Do you have any objects in your house that Fyodor Mikhailovich could touch?

Once I was sitting in the Pushkin House, reading the correspondence of the Dostoevsky family. In one of Anna Grigorievna's letters I read: “I met the Diderikhs family, they have a factory of musical instruments in St. Petersburg. And they, as a sign of respect for Fyodor Mikhailovich, gave me a piano. As soon as I noted these lines among the letters, I leave the Pushkin House, reach the first stand and see a pasted ad: “An old Diderichs piano is for sale.” Could not resist, went to the specified address and bought a piano. Of course, this is not the same piano that my great-grandmother had. But I still feel a connection.

There are few genuine things of Dostoevsky preserved even in the Museums of Dostoevsky in St. Petersburg and in Staraya Russa. And I don't have them in my house.

- Near the Dostoevsky Museum - Vladimir temple. And there is something reminiscent of the great writer?

Fedor Mikhailovich last years was a member of this church. And here is the rarest case! - the old iconostasis, in front of which Dostoevsky prayed, has been preserved! Although the church was closed for many years. There was an electronic computing center of the executive committee of the Leningrad City Council. Instead of crosses, the antennas stuck out. I saw all this because I was collecting signatures for the opening of the temple. And it turned out that the iconostasis was sewn up behind a false wall! And when the temple began to be handed over to believers, they began to dismantle the partitions, they saw an untouched old iconostasis! This was in 1988. It was necessary to collect ten thousand signatures. Collected.

…When I was a student, I visited the Dostoevsky Museum more than once. And most of all I remember such a seemingly insignificant detail. Slippers for the whole big family - and for guests too. They were sewn (or purchased, I don’t remember anymore) by caring Anna Grigorievna. Dostoevsky wrote at night. And then he slept until almost noon. So, in the whole house, the children, and the wife, and the guests - walked around the rooms only in these special soft slippers. So that neither rustle nor sound reaches the sensitive ear of Fyodor Mikhailovich. The breadwinner of the family must rest!

Before and after birth

- Tell us about your father.

My father, Andrey Fedorovich, went through the whole war. He went to the front as an officer in July 1941. He graduated from the Polytechnic Institute, had a specialty - an engineer for tank engines.

He had difficult fate. He was born in Simferopol. There, at first he entered the Polytechnic, but he was not allowed to finish his studies in the south. He confessed to someone that he was of noble blood, and he was expelled for this. In addition, he did not want to take off his student cap, which was worn before the revolution. These former caps made the Komsomol members very angry, they knocked them off their heads, started fights. And my father stubbornly wore such a cap.

There it began sad story, which almost ended for him in hard labor for a period much longer than the one that fell to Fyodor Mikhailovich in his time. A professor was arrested who taught my father, received him at home, talked with him. He was accused of counter-revolutionary activities. And now, after 15 years, this professor, who had spent so much time in the camp, was taken to Leningrad, and my father was arrested there. This was in 1932.

One person testified that Andrei Fyodorovich Dostoevsky met and was friends with this professor. But to prove that they discussed some kind of counter-revolutionary topics, they have not yet succeeded. I later saw the "case" brought against my father. Four were interviewed former executives of that institute along the party, trade union and Komsomol lines. All three of them drowned my father. And the fourth was his friend. Unfortunately, I do not remember his last name, but his name was Nikolai. He pulled out my father in every possible way. And so the courage of this Nicholas saved Andrei Fedorovich. He refused to stipulate it. But the testimony was knocked out with terrible force ... But somehow he resisted. And thanks to this, my father was released a month later. It's a miracle! The courage of one man saved him. Although his friend was well aware that in case of "intractability" he could be arrested.

My father was a forestry engineer after the war. Developed two unique wood processing machines. Contributed to this industry.

... Dad died in 1968 when I was in the army.

- Were you born and raised in St. Petersburg?

Yes, I grew up in the very center of the city. Born in the apartment of Dostoevsky's nephew, Andrei Andreevich. The Dostoevskys had a large seven-room apartment. They began to crowd us, instilled tenants, and gradually former owners ended up in the same room. I lived there before the army.

He began to study at the men's school in Leningrad. Then we were connected with the girls, and it was a big event. We looked at them with surprise, as if they were some kind of alien objects, and slowly got used to them. Then I got to the third school, it was built in the center of the city, where they experimented with teaching methods. And as a result of these experiments, I understand the literature decently enough.

He grew up as an ordinary young man, was close to dudes at one time. I remember how we went to the opening of the department french impressionists in the Hermitage, that was our challenge! "Art historians in civilian clothes" then followed us there, even took pictures.

Where does the old moneymaker live?

- What is Dostoevsky's Petersburg?

Petersburg for me native city, and I love him. But Dostoevsky came here and considered this city fantastic, fictional. Didn't love him. In his first specialty, he was a military engineer-topographer, second lieutenant. Although he served in the topographic department less than a year and resigned. But even under his manuscripts, he sometimes wrote: "engineer-lieutenant Dostoevsky." And his brothers were civil and military architects. All of them were well versed in architecture ... And the writer's descriptions of St. Petersburg are always very accurate. I would say this: topographically accurate! .. Indeed, literary critics have calculated the house where the old pawnbroker from the novel Crime and Punishment lived. I went there, even led excursions, all descriptions match. The house was "iron", "multi-storey", two arches, etc. In general, this is a topographical novel! Gotta start foot reading from Sennaya Square, everything is described there, everything matches. Moreover, recently it became known that F.M. I have been in this house of an old money-lender more than once. There lived a tailor, to whom the writer took to turn his clothes. If Raskolnikov's house with its closet, to which thirteen steps led, is chosen from several suitable descriptions (for example, my father Andrei Fyodorovich Dostoevsky pointed to another house, not the one recognized by most literary critics), then with the house where Dostoevsky described the murder, different opinions no. This is a house on Malaya Podyacheskaya Street. And people live in that apartment, idle revelers go there to them. Or rather, they walked until they put an intercom in the entrance. The people in that apartment, of course, breathed a sigh of relief. Literature does not always have a positive effect on life.

Manuscripts and locomotives

I, too, as a student, visited this place. The fantastic interweaving of literature with life struck me then. How can one believe the writer in order to look for the house depicted in the novel on a real map of St. Petersburg?! And what kind of artistic power does a writer need to have, so that crowds of tourists would follow in the footsteps of his fantasies ... And where are Dostoevsky's manuscripts now stored?

First of all, in the Pushkin House in St. Petersburg. But! All the archives of the family that Fyodor Fedorovich brought from Simferopol to Moscow after the death of his mother, Anna Grigoryevna, were almost destroyed by the Bolsheviks. They wanted to cash in all the documents, scattered them among the different collections of the country's museums. In addition to Moscow and St. Petersburg, they were sent to Yaroslavl, somewhere else. A priceless manuscript of The Brothers Karamazov was stolen. She was kidnapped back in the Crimea. So she still hasn't shown up. In the 1920s, someone offered this manuscript to the Bolshevik government for a huge amount of money. The Council of People's Commissars replied: "We need steam locomotives more than Dostoevsky's manuscripts." There is a rumor that the manuscript could have been acquired by Stefan Zweig, a well-known Austrian writer and collector, a great admirer of Dostoevsky's work. He just arrived at Soviet Russia.

- Would you like to publish your book of memoirs?

Didn't think about it. My modest writing takes place in the form of almost an illness. If I need to describe some episode, then I suffer, I can’t even sleep. And I won't rest until I put it on paper. This is how memories are made. I host them In contact with, in the Internet. I got this thing a long time ago. I have over a thousand friends there. Basically, these are fans of Dostoevsky's work. They read my memories. They like it.

Are you driving now?

Well, not in the winter, but definitely in the summer. I go to the dacha on the Karelian Isthmus. We have half the house there, there was not enough money for the whole house. I have a Ford van. The whole family fits in. Sometimes traffic cops would stop me, I give them driver license. They read the surname, and I wait: will they dare to ask? And if they ask, I answer like this: "I have a relationship." And immediately another conversation begins. They are embarrassed to fine Dostoevsky's great-grandson.

Miracle in Staraya Russa

- Were there miracles in your life?

After my first serious admission to the hospital, when I was discharged, they told me: “We shot at you with a “cannon”, they could damage the stomach. So do not be surprised if you have a gastritis, and there, maybe an ulcer. Lymphatic vessels were cauterized, and one of them was located next to the stomach. Well, after a year and a half, I already got a good ulcer. I suffered for twenty-five years.

And exactly twelve years ago a miracle happened. I was then easy-going and every year went to Staraya Russa to the International Old Russian Readings "Dostoevsky and Modernity". But due to illness, he could not stay there for more than two days. The water in Staraya Russa is completely different, and already on the third day my stomach began to hurt terribly. I had to drop everything and go home. I drove a car, and while getting home, I pressed my stomach to the steering wheel so as not to feel this pain so much. The organizers of the Readings, scientists, were offended by me that I did not stay until the end, and I was not at the farewell dinner. And so it was for many years. The operation was forbidden to me due to the fact that I was undergoing oncology. treated with therapeutic methods.

An interesting point: during the autumn exacerbations, I usually got to the hospital on the same day - November 7th. It was the hospital of the Kirov Plant. Everyone there already knew me, they were preparing a single ward with a TV. I called and they sent a car for me. It’s just that I, as a radio electronics engineer, repaired a lot of medical devices for them, so they treated me with special respect.

I had to live somehow, and I found medicines that relieve seizures, avoided heavy food. And I gradually got used to my illness. “A person gets used to everything,” as Fyodor Mikhailovich said, I will not clarify this phrase ... (I will clarify this phrase of Dostoevsky Sr.: “To everything, scoundrel man getting used to…” A.Zh.)

And once again I come to the Readings in Staraya Russa, I listen to the reports with great pleasure. They approach me as a competent person, they ask me how I liked this or that report. And I don't have a degree. “Well, you feel at the genetic level,” they say to me. But most of all I liked the conversations between Venerable scholars in hotel. There they are not clamped by any framework, everyone becomes equal -
doctors of science with graduate students, no conventions. And also with vodka ... Novgorod vodka in Staraya Russa, the best. Well, once again they come up to me and say: in the evening we are going to such and such a room. I answer: “OK, I will!”

The Readings ended that day, it was already seven o'clock in the evening. I am going to my hotel, change clothes and go to the room where the scholars will gather. I go out, and suddenly I have a thought: I should run into the church. What for? It seems like only yesterday we were all in St. George's Church - this is the same church where Fyodor Mikhailovich went to pray, and every year the Readings open with a prayer service in this church.

I went to church, but on the way I keep thinking: how is it, it’s inconvenient, I’ll be late. It is important for scientists that I also be present. And for some reason I'm going in a completely different direction. It's all in my head, but I feel in my heart: I need to go to church.

I come to the church - the door is open. Well, thank God it's not closed yet. I go in - no one, the evening service has already ended. Grannies rub floors - I also thought like sailors on deck. Well, what am I doing here? I turn into the chapel, where the miraculous Old Russian Icon of the Mother of God is. And then I feel some inexplicable catharsis. Everything jumped out of my head, I weakened, rested my eyes on the Face of the Most Holy Theotokos. And I didn’t fall myself - it was as if I was thrown to my knees, and tears flowed. A stupid thought was still spinning in my head that the grannies were looking at me, I was disturbing them, probably. And the grannies, of course, threw down the mops and stared at me: what kind of unfamiliar man with a beard has come? But then I forgot about them, nothing existed for me at that moment, except for the icon. How long this went on, I have no idea. Time is gone. Then I got up and collected myself a little. Again I think: what was it, why am I here? He kissed the icon and left the church. I went to the hotel, they were waiting for me there, again there was an interest in what the scientists would say there. But in the hotel, as soon as I went into my room, immediately, without undressing, fell on the bed and fell asleep. Passed out until the morning, even in the morning I was late for the Readings.

The next day, as expected, I expect pain. I think we need to drive the car to the museum so that the suitcase is already there - go straight home. I'm waiting. By evening there is nothing. I did not sleep at night, I was waiting for the pain to begin. The third day passes, the fourth - nothing hurts me. And so it remained until the end of the Readings. At a farewell dinner, the mayor of the city said to me: “Finally, Dmitry Andreevich is among us!” He proposed a toast to me. After dinner, I leave Staraya Russa and on the way I think: that's it, as soon as I arrive, I'll fry potatoes for myself. Not that I really wanted to, I just decided to check how the body would react. I couldn't have fried food. I waited at home for everyone to leave and fried potatoes. Luda comes and starts scolding me: “Why did you fry potatoes?” I ate potatoes and wait. Nothing hurts! Slowly I began to understand what it was. Holy Mother of God healed me. And I don't have stomach pains before today! When I have last time they found a tumor in the intestine, they checked everything up to the stomach - and so everything is in order with the stomach.

The next year I again went to the Readings in Staraya Russa. And immediately to the church - to thank the Mother of God. And there Father Ambrose, rector of the temple and dean (also Ambrose! - this is not an accidental name in the fate of Dostoevsky! My great-grandfather went to the elder Ambrose of Optina ...). “Father Ambrose,” I say, “it seems that I was healed from the icon.” And he looked at me so skeptically and left. Where did he go? And he went for a book where miracles from the Old Russian icon are recorded. Brings out an old book, velvet. “Are you going to write about me?” - "Not yet, wait." And he takes out a leaf. The terms and conditions are written on this sheet. I didn’t remember everything, but, for example, there was a question if I had taken any medicine the day before (answer: I didn’t). Another question is how long ago I communed the Holy Mysteries. And just then, on the very first day of the Readings, I took communion. Vladyka Leo invited us all to Novgorod, and there I confessed and took communion. And when I answered all the questions for Father Ambrose, he said: “Now I will write you down.”

Alexei also had a miracle with an ulcer. Being on Valaam, in the monastery, he healed the ulcer. Not instantly, like me, but still healed.

And there was another miracle. I was in Munich - just at the moment when Joseph Munoz brought there the miraculous myrrh-streaming icon of the Mother of God of Iveron-Montreal. A tray was made under the icon, and I saw with my own eyes how myrrh was poured into it from the icon. I had to observe myrrh-streaming before, but I have never seen such a powerful one anywhere else.

The fragrance was strong! I was brought to the icon by my mistress, a Russian woman, with whom I stayed in Munich. While I was praying near the icon, the hostess took a rather large bottle, put a piece of cotton wool soaked in myrrh, and gave it to me. This ointment cured Alexei. He cut his hand badly once. Fumbled, did something and cut. The wound was deep, and in a day it all festered. And the next day he will drive a tram. He loved his tram very much, even more than I did. Just as in love with him, Natalya was "jealous" of him for the tram. Alexei was very worried that he would not be able to go to work. And then one of us - I don’t remember, me or Lyudmila - it dawned on me: we took out this cotton wool and anointed his hand. In the morning, the wound was almost invisible, but during the night it was gone. And then we got used to it: as soon as something happens, we take a cotton wool and anoint it crosswise. And the girls were anointed when the granddaughters were born. The fragrance from the cotton wool became weaker over time.

And when they brought Tikhvin icon Mother of God to us in Russia, in Tikhvin, I could not go to the holiday. But something dawned on me that day, I took a bottle with a cotton wool, I open it - and suddenly a very strong fragrance spread from there. But ten years have passed since they gave it to me in Munich, the myrrh on it has long since dried up. And I immediately got everything connected: Mother of God glad that Her Tikhvin icon is back!

Thank God for everything!

- Is it hard to bear the cross of a descendant of Dostoevsky?

Differently. The main difficulty is that you have to live two lives. His own, and the one that is dedicated not so much to the family as to the genius - Dostoevsky. Did I succeed? It's not for me to judge. But I would like to think that I can imagine what is worthy of him here on earth. It gets hard. Sometimes you have to restrain yourself so as not to drop the honor of the family. After all, there were slander on me. And there was a lot. I want to answer, I want to answer sharply. And I restrain myself. I don't get into a fight. I step aside.

... And so - I got everything I wanted from life. Thank God for everything! Came to the Church. He loved his work. He earned his apartment-car-cottage with his own labor. What else does? Good family. A wonderful wife. She is like Anna Grigorievna with Fyodor Mikhailovich. Complements me in everything. Sometimes she says to me: “How you still look like Fyodor Mikhailovich!” - and I answered her: “I have you - Anna Grigoryevna of pure water ...”

Time to say goodbye. Photos have already been taken. I forgot to take an autograph. I promise to join the correspondence "In contact". Thank you for the meeting, for the hospitality. Well, in a word, we say to each other everything that is supposed to be said before leaving. And suddenly it dawned on me. And one thing, important, I almost forgot! It's good that at least on the threshold he remembered. I beg:

Cross me - just like a layman baptizes.

I? But why? Ah, okay! - and signed with a wide cross. To the track.

He left happy. Just here me - Dostoevsky himself baptized!

In the presence of Dostoevsky

The rector of the church in honor of the Apostle John the Theologian (Leushinsky Compound), St. Petersburg, tells Archpriest Gennady Belovolov:

This story took place in 1988. I come from the Caucasus, from the famous city of Pyatigorsk in Russian literature. Lermontov was my favorite poet, and I always burned with a thirst to deal with this Martynov ... I moved to St. Petersburg, here I entered graduate school. And they had to earn their daily bread. But I was in Petersburg new person. And he did not know where to work, where to get a job. And then I said to my mother (then, of course, I was not yet a father), to my wife: in life you always have to take the maximum. You need to aim at the very highest point whether it is possible or seems impossible. I asked myself a direct question: what would you like to work with? I then wrote a diploma on Dostoevsky. And so I said to myself and to my wife: my dream is to work in the Dostoevsky Museum! I knew it was useless. And yet…

There was a funeral home next to the Dostoevsky Museum. I had to take a certificate from the archive for one deceased employee of the Pushkin House. Help was needed to install a memorial plaque on his house. And when I was passing by the Dostoevsky Museum, I decided to go in and ask... I went in and asked: is the director there? - On the spot.

They invited me to the office.

Who you are? the headmistress asked.

Came to ask if you have a place in the museum. I am a philologist. I can work as a research assistant. There is also a guide qualification.

The director looked at me like I was a Martian. It is clear that in such a museum positions are distributed in completely different ways. But she answered politely:

Wait a bit.

Sat, I'm waiting. A man I don't know sits in the corner. Apparently, there had been a conversation between him and the headmistress before my arrival. But the director's attention was now directed to some important papers. The headmistress's name was Bella Nurievna Rybalko, and this combination of a Caucasian given name and patronymic with a Ukrainian surname gave her some special bright color. Suddenly she looked up from her papers and looked at me intently. Then she asked:

And you won't make a fuss? Will you write denunciations against me?

I replied that how Orthodox person I have no inclination to write denunciations and scandals.

She explained conciliatoryly:

- ... And then one researcher has already written so much slander on me that I finally decided to fire him. So the place is about to be vacated. This is pure coincidence. And I don't know how you knew about it. But you came surprisingly on time ... So are you really a believer? she asked. And with amplification she added about herself: - I am a communist!

It was 1988. Some timid shifts had just begun, but it seemed to everyone that “flirting” with the Church was the same temporary campaign as the recent struggle for sobriety, and it would pass as quickly as other similar campaigns ... I realized that the question for me is now an edge. And of course, he understood how a communist can treat a believer. It was clear that if I said that I was a believer, then, most likely, there would be no place for me in the museum.

And yet I also understood something more important: this is the moment of truth! And you need to stand firm. Then I replied, “Yes, I am a believing Christian. And maybe it's time for me to go." He even got up from his chair to leave the office. Everything was already so clear.

Wait! - she said. - Do you think, since you are a believer, and I am a communist, then, therefore, I will never hire you to work in a museum? But it's not. I will call you. Wait for my call.

I left the office reassured. But not a day later, not two days later, she did not call me. I have stopped hoping. And soon came November 11, the birthday of Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky. On this day, the museum Scientific Conference by the work of the great writer. I went there just as a listener. There sounded quite interesting reports. I was sitting in a crowded room, but the headmistress saw me and nodded. And then, during the break, she called.

Why don't you come? she wondered. - I've been waiting for you. Go to the secretary - write a job application.

I wrote an application and was hired by the museum on November 11 - the birthday of the writer Dostoevsky! This was probably the only such case. And now many, many years have passed, and I am still a researcher at the Dostoevsky Museum. There in the accounting department is mine employment history. I pay taxes in the museum. Workload scientific work there is now minimal for me - but I really value this position in the museum. All these years I have been under the prayer cover of Fyodor Mikhailovich.

And a few years later, when I was already a priest, I served in a rural parish in Somino, Boksitogorsk district in Leningrad region. And then I was unexpectedly offered to become the rector of the Leushinsky metochion in St. Petersburg. The decree on my appointment was also signed on 11 November. This means that here too, Dostoevsky's help could not have been achieved. I won’t say that Dostoevsky is a saint, I don’t know this, but that he has great boldness before God, that he begs for help to people connected with him - this is obvious to me,
undoubtedly! I know it myself.

... And that unknown man, who was sitting in the director's office - I only found out later who it was. It was none other than Dmitry Andreevich Dostoevsky! The great-grandson of the writer... Apparently, it was so pleasing to God that my confession of faith took place in the Dostoevsky Museum, in the presence of a descendant of the great writer.

When years later we were introduced to him, he unexpectedly said:

I already know you!

How so, where? - I was surprised.

In front of me, you told the director that you believe in God!

So Dmitry Andreevich Dostoevsky became a witness of one of major episodes of my life.

F. M. Dostoevsky

For children (collection of excerpts from short stories and novels)

© Stepanyan K., introductory article, comments, 2000

© Design of the series. Publishing house "Children's Literature", 2002

Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky and we

Reading this book is only the first step on the way to Dostoevsky. Every person needs to read and experience at least the main works of this writer - "Crime and Punishment", "Idiot", "Demons", "Teenager", "The Brothers Karamazov", "Notes from the Underground", talking about Pushkin. And not only because without it you can not be called cultured person, much more important is that without this it is impossible to understand life, the people around and oneself. You can, of course, live like this, as they say, in calm ignorance, but this is deceptive calmness: you will rush in the stream of life and the further you go, the more often you will ask yourself with anxiety: where am I, what am I doing here and what awaits me after?

The Bible and other sacred books of mankind help us to understand life, Pushkin, Leo Tolstoy, many writers and thinkers of the past and present help us. Dostoevsky's voice is also very necessary and important.

Life is difficult, difficult and full of trials, but at the same time it is bright and joyful, because it contains love and goodness, the happiness of helping one's neighbor and overcoming evil in oneself, immortal life souls and the infinite mercy of God. Dostoevsky does not teach anything "from top to bottom" - he shows: here is good and here is evil, choose, because every person is free. Try to be honest with your conscience, do not justify yourself, because bad thoughts and desires are just as (and sometimes more) dangerous as actions.

Dostoevsky must be read slowly, no matter how difficult it may be at first. It is difficult not because Dostoevsky, as is commonly believed, is a gloomy writer, although after reading some of the passages collected in this book, such an impression may arise. But it's still mostly separate parts great works, and the parts where speech is the main the way it goes about children. The experiences of children, their difficulties and troubles always worried Dostoevsky very much, and he strove to ensure that they also excited and made his readers empathize. And you don’t have to be afraid of this and you don’t have to skip or quickly run through such pages: just like we learn to live among people, learn the rules of behavior and educate willpower, we must educate our feelings, but not best school education of feelings than empathy with other people.

In fact, Dostoevsky is a very optimistic and inspiring writer, because in his works one can always see the light and ways out of the most difficult situations. We'll talk about this later. But this book mainly contains excerpts and short stories that describe the suffering of heroes from material poverty (material, because there is also spiritual, and it is much worse). Sometimes it seems that it is impossible to read, your heart breaks when you get used to the torment of little Nelly or the family of Ilyusha Snegirev. But this pain heals the heart. After all, unfortunately, there is a lot of poverty and poverty around us in Everyday life, and, having been educated by Dostoevsky, we will be able to better understand how much mental torment, and not just physical - cold, hunger - a poor person experiences, how his pride suffers when he is forced to ask, how painful inequality is for him (especially if it is a child) with children like him, but only with rich parents, and how unbearable for poor parents is the inability to feed, clothe, cure their beloved son or daughter.

Dostoevsky is not a sentimental author at all: he does not call on us to feel sorry for any poor person just because he is poor. The writer understands: sometimes it happens that the person himself is to blame for the poverty of his own and his family. But someone else's guilt does not free us from anything: our guilt, if we did not help our suffering neighbor, will still be our guilt. If we see a person hanging on the edge of an abyss, we will reach out to him and help him get out and only then ask how he got there (and if we don’t help, our conscience will torment us all our lives). But very often a person is poor not because he is stupid, likes to drink or is lazy; it happens that, once he has failed in life, he can no longer improve his affairs. Often the cause of poverty is illness - one's own or loved ones - the betrayal of friends and much more.

But besides indifference or, even worse, contempt for the poor, there is another danger, another extreme, and Dostoevsky also warns about it. When we read about such sufferings, or even more so when we see them in life, along with sympathy and compassion, a protest is often born in us: further such a situation cannot be tolerated, everything must be corrected immediately. And you definitely need to help, but only very carefully and carefully. Poor people, Dostoevsky shows us, are very vulnerable, they can be terribly offended by any appeal “from above”, the position of a “benefactor” who “condescends” to them. You can always help with care, sympathy, just a kind word. But what should not be done is to decide that there is no point in helping these specific people, it is only necessary to remake the whole world in justice: take away what is superfluous from the rich, give to the poor, so that everyone has an equal share. People are all different, and no one knows for sure what “fairly” means. Very often such a desire - to "remake the world" - is a manifestation of a hidden desire to stand out, to become a leader, a hero.

Really kind and conscientious person will never allow himself to use wealth without sharing with the poor, without helping them. But it is impossible to make others good by force, you can only act according to goodness and conscience yourself. And maybe your example will teach someone else. Any other way will only increase the evil in the world.

All this - and not only, of course, this - helps us to learn and understand Dostoevsky's books.

Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky was born on October 30 (November 11, according to a new style), 1821 in Moscow, in the family of a poor doctor at the Mariinsky Hospital on Bozhedomka (now Dostoevsky Street. The hospital is still located there, and in one of its outbuildings there is a museum-apartment of Dostoevsky). Fedor was the second oldest, and there were eight children in the family. They lived very modestly, but nevertheless, the parents tried to give their children a decent education, they themselves studied with them, in the evenings they held home readings: parents and older children took turns reading aloud, and the younger ones listened. They read Derzhavin, Zhukovsky, Karamzin, historical novels- “Ice House” by Lazhechnikov, “Yuri Miloslavsky” by Zagoskin. The children themselves read a lot. By the age of seventeen, Dostoevsky had already read Pushkin (whom he “knew almost everything by heart”), Derzhavin, Lermontov, Balzac, Schiller, Hugo, Hoffmann, Shakespeare, Goethe, Cooper, Pascal, W. Scott.

He left behind not only a great literary heritage, but also posterity. Married to his first wife Maria Dmitrievna, the writer had no children, but his second wife Anna Grigoryevna bore him four. How was their fate? And what happened to the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of Fyodor Mikhailovich?

Anna Grigorievna Dostoevskaya in her maiden name was Snitkin and was the daughter of a petty official. Anna Grigoryevna met the writer when she worked for him as a stenographer. The spouses had a big age difference (more than 20 years), but this did not prevent family happiness and the birth of children.

Their first child, daughter Sophia, was born in 1868. However, in the same year she caught a cold and died. The girl was buried in one of the cemeteries of Geneva, where the Dostoevsky couple was at that moment.

Already in the next 1869, Anna Grigoryevna gave her husband a second daughter, Lyubov. It happened in Dresden, Germany. The girl was 12 years old when the writer himself passed away. Lyubov Fedorovna subsequently also took up a pen, wrote several stories and memoirs dedicated to her father, but neither one nor the other had much success. Even before the revolution, Dostoevskaya went abroad for treatment and never returned. She died in Italy at the age of 57 from a blood disease.

In 1871, the son Fedor appeared in St. Petersburg. In childhood and youth, he also wrote, but after him horses began to fascinate more. Fedor Fedorovich lived in the Crimea, where he was engaged in horse breeding. Dostoevsky Jr. died at the age of 51.

Another son Alexei, born in 1875, died when he was not even 3 years old. According to one version, the cause of death was epilepsy, which, as you know, his father also suffered from.

Grandchildren and great-grandchildren

Dostoyevsky's first son Fyodor had three children. The daughter of Fyodor Fedorovich died in infancy, and his son, Fyodor, also died at the age of 16. The latter wrote talented poetry and could well become a famous poet. The family was continued only by the second grandson of the writer Andrei, who was born in 1908. Andrei Fedorovich became an engineer. He lived in Leningrad and taught at a technical school.

Andrei Fedorovich, in turn, became the father of Dmitry, Dostoevsky's great-grandson. Dmitry Andreevich was born in 1945. His sister died in early childhood. The great-grandson of the writer worked all his life in working specialties: he was an electrician, fitter and even a tram driver. He lives to this day and lives in St. Petersburg. Dmitry Andreevich has a son Alexei and four grandchildren Anna, Vera, Maria and Fedor.

Brothers and sisters

Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky himself had three brothers and four sisters. Elder Mikhail not only wrote, but also translated. He died at 43. One of the younger brothers of the writer Andrey became an architect, and the other Nikolai became an engineer.

The sister of Fyodor Mikhailovich Varvara married a wealthy man and became Karepina. She was extremely stingy and repeated the fate of the old pawnbroker from Crime and Punishment. Varvara Mikhailovna was killed by a janitor who coveted her savings.

Dostoevsky's other two sisters, Vera and Lyubov, turned out to be twins. Love died in infancy, and Vera registered a relationship with a certain Ivanov. Judging by the memoirs of the writer's contemporaries, Vera Mikhailovna's marriage was a happy one.

The youngest in the family, Alexandra Mikhailovna, went down the aisle twice and was first Golenovskaya, and after Shevyakova. Shevyakova, like Karepina, was not distinguished by generosity and even sued her siblings.