1
" Form is what transforms the content of a work into its essence. Do you understand? The character of music arises out of its form like steam from water,’ Yury Andreevich said. ‘With solid understanding of the general laws of form, which encompass all that is amenable to formulation, one can, by groping further, perceive the individual, the particular. Then, subtracting the general, one can sense a residue where wonder lurks in its purest, most undiluted form. Herein lies the goal of theory: the more fully one grasps what is available for comprehension, the more intensely the ineffable shines. "
― Lyudmila Ulitskaya , The Big Green Tent
6
" After the funeral, they went to a private club in Chelsea, where they drank and jammed the night away together—greats and nobodies alike. The slightly acrimonious, sardonic Mickey, a fan of folk and world music, would have been pleased. [...] Yurik played, too, his own composition, which he had been working on for the entire year. In memory of Mickey.
For it was Mickey, who had lived so easily, so lightly, and had died so painfully, who had instilled in Yurik the consciousness that, in the highest sense, music had no authorship. It was a gift, and an ability to read the divine book, to transpose a universal sound that needed no notation into the language of paltry musical instruments, invented for the convenience and purpose of transmitting supremely important messages—messages that could not be conveyed in any other way ... And the best ears, the best hearts and souls of this spiritual dimension called music, listened to Yurik's song that evening. And heard it. "
― Lyudmila Ulitskaya , Лестница Якова
8
" Yurik's room became their love nest. And a messier room the world had never seen. It was a jumble of dirty socks strewn about the floor, sheet music, CDs, cigarette butts, paper plates, and half-filled cans of Coke. An old Hammond organ, left behind by former tenants, stood in the hallway, blocking half the entrance and leaving only a narrow space to squeeze through.
This was the room where the young couple broadened their knowledge of the world, from time to time ingesting substances that took them to other places and realities. But when Laura finished high school, and showed her parents the report card with grades that would never get her admitted into a decent college, she announced to Yurik that he had no prospects, and danced off forever. After leaving Yurik and giving him his first broken heart, she went to California. Then she flew off to the places where fearless and brainless enthusiasts of dangerous journeys fly to. "
― Lyudmila Ulitskaya , Лестница Якова
9
" When she was still a child, her daughter had asked Marina, ‘Why do Russians have such bad teeth and greasy hair?’
Marina could have answered this question, but she chose to remain silent; there would have been too much to explain, about how every culture had its own habits: Americans change their T-shirts twice a day and wash every time they come near a shower. But a Russian, from one generation to the next, washed once a week in the bathhouse, on Saturdays, and changed his underwear at the same time. Many of them lived in communal housing, where there was no bathroom at all. And she would also have had to talk about how every shabbily dressed Russian child at their age read as many books in a year as she and her brother were likely to read in a lifetime. And how every decent Russian adult knew as many poems by heart as a professor of philology in this country had ever known. "
― Lyudmila Ulitskaya , Лестница Якова
12
" The next day, she flew back to Moscow. If anyone loved long-distance flights, it was Nora. She loved it when you found yourself nowhere at all—in a sort of abstract space and an indeterminate, vacillating time, when, all of a sudden, all obligations, all promises cease. Everything is put on hold—telephone calls, the mail, requests, offers, complaints—they all stop short, and you hover, you fly, you soar between heaven and earth, between earth and the moon, between the earth and the sun. You fall out of your ordinary system of coordinates. You fly … as Tengiz, my soulmate, had; the only one I knew who had burst through all the boundaries of this world alive, and had learned to inhabit another world—the world of shadows … Tengiz … Love beyond touch, love outside of time. "
― Lyudmila Ulitskaya , Лестница Якова
13
" Аспирантка рассказывала о работах новосибирского генетика Б. по «одомашниванию» чернобурых лис, животных агрессивных и опасных. Оказалось, что при последовательном отборе наиболее послушных животных и скрещивании их между собой в энном поколении качество шерсти у них резко ухудшилось, а сами лисицы, ставшие послушными и доверчивыми, загавкали по-собачьи. Таким образом, на воротники для генеральских жен годились лишь те лисицы, которые на хорошие отношения с человеком никак не соглашались. Лисицы с плохим поведением. Те, что научились лизать руку, дающую корм, ни на что другое не годились.
(«Казус Кукоцкого», Л. Улицкая) "
― Lyudmila Ulitskaya
14
" Why did this music move her? Was it really a signal of some kind? They had all been so musical-both her grandfathers, Alexander and Jacob—and Genrikh … Genrikh … And from her heart a deep lament rose up and choked her, and it was as though it wasn't she crying, but Genrikh in her. Little Genrikh, intolerable little child who threw himself on the floor and thrashed his arms and legs, who wanted to fly a glider or an plane, whom they barred from his beloved profession of aviation—yes, of course, because his father, was an enemy of the people and ruined everything. He was robbed of his dreams, his hopes, his shining, beckoning future. Oh, poor Genrikh!
Nora cried together with him, this boy, her future and former father, who had not been given the chance to live the life he dreamed about. He sobbed
and gasped for then grew tired and moaned quietly, then howled again, and started throwing a tantrum. Nora just wiped away the tears. How awful! Would his grief never end? Would it never burn out, never die? Would it torment him, and Nora, and the newborn who had only just arrived and was not guilty of anything at all? Is it possible that the evil we commit never dissipates, but hangs above the head of every new child that emerges out of this river of time? "
― Lyudmila Ulitskaya , Лестница Якова
19
" Собака в доме, как дефективный ребенок. Она постоянно в тебе нуждается. В тебе, твоем внимании, твоей заботе... Собаку, простите, даже на улицу надо вывести, потому что воспитанная собака скорее умрет, чем в доме нагадит... - Он посмотрел на Веселую, она грустно кивнула. - Кто, кто, кроме человека, идет на смерть за идею? Только собака! "
― Lyudmila Ulitskaya , Казус Кукоцкого
