The 1981 year. I am a student of 9th grade. Lectures of Russian Literature. My neighbor at the party somewhere broke Babel's Odessa Stories. I remember 1981.
Only a year ago the Lenin Prize for Literature was awarded.
There were no books like those obtained by a friend in free access, gently speaking, and there were few people who knew about Isaac Babel (he was not part of the school program), and there were even fewer people who read him (interesting, but what now?) is
In any case, we had a book in a cardboard wrap that was read to the hole in our hands, which my friend was given for one lesson. Using a book in the party, they began to read it, trying not to be noticed by the teacher.
Have you ever tried unnoticably for others to read Ilfa and
Petrov, Gashek or the same “Odessa Stories”? That and that... Very quickly, my comrade and I began to stifle from the hard-to-restrained whistle.
And immediately earned a comment, then the second. On the third teacher did not spend - she bypassed "from the rear" our party, got out of her innermost.
“Out of class reading,” she closed the book to look at the cover... and then, without saying a word, opened it and returned to the previous place in the party. Until the end of the lesson, we did not receive any comments.
"Odessa Stories" were read and returned to the owner on change.
That day I realized that good books can be different. Much later I realized what a wonderful man taught me not only to write, but also to read in the “great and powerful” without mistakes... I was lucky – there were many such people in my life. And so in our friendly company always sounds a toast "For teachers". Give God, we remember you.