Excerpts
Excerpt: Dimitry Morgachev: My Life
Here is an excerpt from Memoirs of Peasant Tolstoyans In Soviet Russia (Indiana University Press):
In our village of Burdino there were fistfights three times a year- in December and January, on Shrove Tuesday in February, and at Easter, in April. The village was divided in half, and on Shrove Tuesday village fought village–Burdino and Terbuny. I also took part in those fights. Our priests said that fistfights were not bad: men got training from them and would be bolder and more active in war. The fights began with boys, then with teenagers, then grown men, and after that even bearded old men. Once the old men gathered close together like a wall and pushed me up against one of the strongest old men from the other side. I knocked him down, and from that time on they considered me a strong man. They said, “How he knocked over that big granddad!” It was the rule that you should never beat a man who was lying down, whether he was knocked down or whether he fell by himself, but sometimes they would agree to hold the very strongest men up by the armpits, and other strong men would not let them fall down and would keep beating them. Sometimes the outcome was fatal. Once a wealthy shopkeeper offered two buckets of vodka to the side that won. No fewer than three thousand men got together for the brawl. Our village won that time.
Tags: Russia, tolstoyans
I really enjoyed that. There is something that I really like about… translated Russian syntax. Like when Putin kissed that boy on the belly– it was weird I guess, but there was something very endearing about the language.
I really enjoyed that. There is something that I really like about… translated Russian syntax. Like when Putin kissed that boy on the belly– it was weird I guess, but there was something very endearing about the language.
I really enjoyed reading that.
I really enjoyed reading that.
thanks guys! I am trying to be the most random of all excerpters.
3000 drunk Russian dudes beating the crap out of each other!- fight club has nothing on drunk russians.
andre’ re language- “how he knocked over that big granddad!” that line cracks me up.
i fucking love this.
i fucking love this.
jereme- all your kung fu fantastic japanese stuff is – to my mind- even more random than the stuff I read and share. i mean that as a compliment, btw. but i am fighting you for the battle of “most random, yet still entertaining.” OK?
pr,
i alone am best
pr,
i alone am best
fight you..fight youoooo- let’s fight.
hold on. i need to get some old dudes to hold you by the armpits so i can punch you in the stomach 50 times.
fear my shaolin fist of obscurity
hold on. i need to get some old dudes to hold you by the armpits so i can punch you in the stomach 50 times.
fear my shaolin fist of obscurity
til it is “fatal”? whoops. Also, two buckets of vodka? how are you gonna share that with 2999 other men? hmmm.
I lose every arm wrestling fight I get into these days. And I start every one of them. Just ask Francis at the Bkln inn. And I make him fight left handed, cause I’m left handed. But he’s right handed. Sigh. I’m beat you at obscure good stuff. The fight is on.