Чайковский. История одинокой жизни

Nina Berberova (1901-1993) - prozaik, poėt, "pervai͡a parizhskai͡a dama russkoĭ literatury", avtor sensat͡sionnoĭ avtobiografii "Kursiv moĭ" (1969). V 1930-kh Berberova pishet belletrizovannui͡u biografii͡u Petra Ilʹicha Chaĭkovskogo. Ona sozdaet portret zhivogo cheloveka, portret bez maski, no sokhrani͡aet takt i vernostʹ faktam. Vechnai͡a chuzhestranka, ona rasskazyvaet o russkom kompozitore tak, budto nikogda ne pokidala Rossii…"Muzyka slishkom silʹno deĭstvovala na Pʹera, osobenno kogda on "fantaziroval" na roi͡ale. On krichal v bessonnit͡su: "O, ėta muzyka, ėta muzyka!"- Nichego ne slyshno, nikakoĭ muzyki net, - otvechala Fanni, prizhimai͡a ego k sebe. - Ona u meni͡a zdesʹ, zdesʹ! - krichal on, rydai͡a i khvatai͡a sebi͡a za golovu. - Ona ne daet mne pokoi͡a. No skvozʹ ėti detskie bessonnit͡sy, skvozʹ trudnosti dneĭ na nego teperʹ vse chashche nakhodila kakai͡a-to gordelivai͡a radostʹ, slovno on chto-to reshil pro sebi͡a, chto-to iskal, dolgo, ochenʹ dolgo - iskal i nashel, ozaril kakoĭ-to temnyĭ ugol v sebe. On mog ėtim strannym, zvuchnym i͡azykom rasskazyvatʹ o sebe nakonet͡s po-nastoi͡ashchemu - no glavnoe ne to, chtoby ego poni͡ali, glavnoe - samomu vyskazatʹsi͡a na nem". Nina Berberova.

Nina Berberova (1901-1993) — novelist, poet, “the first Parisian lady of Russian literature", author of the sensational autobiography “My Italics" (1969). In the 1930s, Berberova wrote a fictionalized biography of Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. She creates a portrait of a living person, a portrait without a mask, but retains tact and fidelity to the facts. An eternal stranger, she talks about the Russian composer as if she had never left Russia...“Music had too much effect on Pierre, especially when he was "fantasizing" on the piano. He screamed in his insomnia: "Oh, this music, this music!"— I can't hear anything, there's no music," Fanny replied, hugging him to her. — I have it here, here! "Stop it!" he shouted, sobbing and clutching his head. "She's been bothering me. But through these childhood insomnia, through the difficulties of the days, a kind of proud joy came to him more and more often, as if he had decided something about himself, searched for something for a long, very long time, searched and found, illuminated some dark corner in himself. He could finally really talk about himself in this strange, sonorous language - but the main thing is not to be understood, the main thing is to speak it himself.” Nina Berberova.