The bookshelf of writer Evgeny Abdullaev
"Gazeta" continues to review the bookshelves of public figures and writers. The hero of the new issue is the writer and literary critic Evgeny Abdullaev (Sukhbat Aflatuni). He shared why one should reread already familiar books, how classics help people understand each other, and explained why reading does not automatically make a person better.

The Bookshelf of Writer Evgeny Abdullaev
The "Bookshelf" was created to popularize the culture of reading. At the bookshelves, we talk with scientists, writers, poets, translators, journalists, and public figures about the books that, in their opinion, are worth reading, and about literature in general.
Can a person live without love? Of course. They will work, go places, and they might have some relationships. Only there will be no love. Would you want such a life? It is the same with books. One can live quite peacefully without reading a single one. Are you content with lying on the couch, watching reels, and playing games? Go ahead. But if you want something better for yourself, then books are part of that better.
I do not mean that people who read are necessarily better than those who do not. The point is different: we all want the world around us to change, while we ourselves remain the same. It does not work that way. If we do not change ourselves, then nothing around us will start changing in the direction we want.
If you want life to meet your expectations to at least some extent, you must change yourself.
And a book is one of the tools that helps to do this. It could also be a serious film, a play — something that conveys not just information, but emotionally charged knowledge. Something that appeals not only to the mind, but also to emotions. An "education of the heart" takes place — after the title of the famous novel by Maupassant.
The first book I want to recommend is "The German War: A Nation Under Arms, 1939–1945" by Nicholas Stargardt, a well-known historian of World War II. The book was included in the top 100 notable books of 2015 by The New York Times.
Stargardt tells the story of World War II not through global events, major military operations, and famous dates, but through the fates of ordinary Germans. They were not politicians or military commanders, they committed neither atrocities nor heroic deeds, but they lived during this time and were its witnesses: some fought, some worked at defense enterprises, some continued their ordinary lives. Some supported the war, some condemned it, and some tried not to notice what was happening until the war came to them in the form of bombings.
Through the correspondence of brides and grooms, husbands and wives, relatives, diaries, and photographs, the writer shows what big history looked like to an ordinary person.
Nowadays, reading for me is mostly connected with work. For the last 20 years, I have rarely read simply for pleasure. I write literary criticism and reviews, so even during an interesting novel, my internal "calculator" is already estimating which publication I can write about it for. I might highlight a passage, make a note, save something to a separate file — the professional eye turns on anyway. Sometimes in the morning, over a cup of coffee, when I do not yet want to think about work or business, I take Mandelstam or Pasternak off the shelf and just read.
In my opinion, it is not enough to read fiction once. From the first reading, you rather get acquainted with the work.
Real reading begins when you return to the book after some time.
Then the second and third layers open up, which are not always noticeable right away. It is like the sea: first you admire the waves, then you enter the water, feel it, and then you begin to see the bottom and discern what is there.
I am a one-woman man both in life and in reading.
I like meeting new people, but I constantly return to those I have known for a long time and with whom I find it more interesting. It is the same with books: there are casual acquaintances, buddies, and there are lifelong friends. For me, these are Shakespeare, Pushkin, Gogol, Dostoevsky. By rereading the classics, I continue to learn.
Another perspective on the same period is provided by Igor Khramov's book "Alexander Schmorell," published in the "Lives of Remarkable People" series, which has been famous since Soviet times and has existed since the 1930s. In my childhood, it was very common to visit someone and see a bookshelf lined with these gray spines. People gladly bought and read these books. Today, the series continues.
Alexander Schmorell was not an outstanding historical figure, politician, or military commander. He was an ordinary German student. Why, then, was a book about him published in the "Lives of Remarkable People" series? In the early 1940s, along with six companions, he created the "White Rose" — an anti-fascist group whose members printed and distributed leaflets condemning what was happening in Germany. In 1943, it was uncovered, and all its members were arrested and sentenced to death.
The book poses an important question: what can an ordinary person do if they realize that the society or the state is violating fundamental principles?
How do you express your disagreement if you have neither power nor special opportunities? The members of the "White Rose" openly opposed what was happening, fully understanding how it would end for them. Today in Germany, they are considered heroes because they were able to create a pocket of resistance at a time when most people tried to adapt to what was happening.
Reading does not guarantee that a person will stop committing foolish and evil acts. You read a book and became kind? That is ridiculous. A great deal depends on what exactly a person reads, especially in childhood, when character is formed. A book is not a universal pill — it can only help a person to change.
Germany was a country with a colossal culture, a high level of education and science, huge libraries and universities — and yet it became the source of barbarism and the destruction of human beings.
A society of readers also does not guarantee that it will be beautifully and justly organized.
However, a society where there are no readers is a terrifying society, which is why the culture of reading cannot be left solely to personal choice. Of course, if people do not read in a family, it is strange to expect that a person raised in it will read actively. But besides the family, there are kindergartens, schools, libraries, book clubs, and other initiatives to popularize reading. We are all quite lazy, and if we are not accustomed to more complex things, we might simply not start doing them.
Now the situation with the culture of reading in our country, in my opinion, has improved. At the state level, a policy of encouraging reading has emerged: contests like "Young Reader" and "Reading Family" are held, and prizes are awarded. Libraries are especially important. I visit our libraries now and rejoice — they have become better funded, many have been renovated, and something is constantly happening there. For example, the children's library after renovation is literally packed with children and young people. That is great.
A library today should not be just a place for storing books. Almost everything can be found on the internet, so it must become a place where life happens: meetings with writers, presentations, contests, and discussions.
The culture of reading is not just a matter of personal habit.
It needs an environment that helps a person form this habit.
My third recommendation is also a book about World War II, but from a completely different angle. This is the novel by the Albanian writer and classic of modern Albanian literature, Ismail Kadare, "The General of the Dead Army."
The action takes place after the war. Albania was occupied by Italy, and many Italian soldiers died there. Fifteen years after the end of the war, an Italian general arrives in Albania to search for their bodies, return them to Italy, and bury them according to religious rites. In the course of these searches, he faces great difficulties.
This is a novel not so much about the war itself, but about what remains after it. It is about memory and trauma.
The war is over, but its trace can persist for decades. Moreover, each nation has its own national trauma. On the one hand, it can unite people and form a shared memory. On the other hand, the question arises: what to do with this trauma? How to live with the memory of what happened? How to relate to the nations and states that inflicted this trauma? To understand, forgive, forget — or somehow otherwise?
It seems to me that these three books are interesting to read together. They are all connected to World War II, but each shows it from a different side: "The German War" through the eyes of ordinary people, "Alexander Schmorell" through the story of individual resistance, and "The General of the Dead Army" through the memory of the war and its consequences.
Why is it important to read classical works? A classic is a book written long ago, but which contains something that remains relevant for today. This is how it differs from a literary archive.
For example, Pushkin. Dozens of other authors lived alongside him — Bulgarin, Vyazemsky, Zagoskin, and many others. They wrote too (and that does not mean poorly), but today they mostly remain subjects of interest for literary scholars, while Pushkin continues to live in the culture and remain interesting to contemporaries.
The same can be said about Alisher Navoi. He was not the only poet of his time, but there is something in his poetry that remains in harmony with modern man, despite the difference in language and era.
In addition, classics create a communicative field between people.
One person might read modern literature, while another might not. Even the most popular books are not read by everyone. But classics, as a rule, are familiar to the majority. We can exchange quotes, and I do not need to explain to you where "The less we love a woman, the easier it is to please her" or "My uncle, of the most honest rules" comes from.
In ancient Greece, it was much the same with the "Iliad" and the "Odyssey." People knew many passages by heart, and in Plato's dialogues, the characters could simply refer to Homer — and the interlocutor did not need anything explained.
Thus, classics become a bridge between people and help them understand each other better.
And an educated person is not necessarily someone who has read a huge number of books. It is a person who knows a certain common cultural field.

