Positive image of old age

Let’s start, as usual, with the obvious. Russia is a country of great literature, and the very Russian identity in this literature is to a large extent either reflected or built. Of our textbook geniuses of the XNUMXth century, at least two — Pushkin and Chekhov, according to authoritative critics, succeeded in a certain completeness of expression («encyclopedia of Russian life», «if Russia disappeared, it could be recreated according to Chekhov’s stories»). It was also noted that Pushkin did not leave us a positive image of old age — neither a living example, nor in his work. Note that the same applies to Chekhov.

They have, as a maximum, cute old men flash by, for whom the good characters (and the reader at the same time) feel sympathy. The stationmaster, for example. That is, old age is not valuable in itself; it, as a kind of indicator, litmus, provokes the reaction of an energetic and active person. Moving on to the more primitive literary patterns of the twentieth century, «old age must be respected.» This is very good — we understand how to relate to someone else’s old age. But what about yours?

At the same time, we have developed an attitude towards death — moderately individual, moderately typical. Moreover, it was developed, so to speak, twice — both in Orthodoxy (to put it more broadly, since the country is large and diverse, in religious terms), and within the framework of a strangely mixed Bolshevik cult, which, of course, was not atheistic, but pagan-theomachic. One way or another, the life outcome for you and me is not an empty phrase, words over a fresh grave are sincere and strong, generalizing — there is nothing accidental and shameful in death.

• «Old age can be the happiest time of our lives»

The maxim that we are between the East and the West, which has stuck in our teeth, is clearly slipping in this particular place. Both in the European and Asian traditions — no matter how broad one takes Asia — old age is much more respected than ours. Perhaps the key word here is “tradition”. Whatever forms it may take, its very presence unobtrusively leads to patriarchy. And the old man from a survivor or a loner turns into the head of the clan. At the same time, physical coexistence in one space is, of course, important, but not fatal. Important, as always, the information field.

The old man is wise (if suddenly not, theory is powerless here), he is the bearer of experience. What is the experience accumulated half a century ago worth today? If the world has really changed dramatically, then nothing. If the changes are just an entourage, and under them, one has only to dig, an unchanging foundation, then the experience does not become obsolete. And here, in my opinion, a very Russian trait is manifested, perfectly captured by the same Chekhov and the same Bolsheviks — longing for an unheard-of new time and world. And the illusion associated with it that here it is — the new world, and the old experience can be shaken off the shoes like dust.

In order not to go far for an example — when in the memorable 90s the Bolshevik behavioral frame (crooked, ridiculous, hypocritical, etc.) was abolished, what appeared in its place? In the order of personal initiative — anything, statistically — nothing. As it turned out, no universal moral experience has been accumulated. Yes, and not moral, but simply worldly. It was as easy to deceive (dissolve) former Soviet people as it was to deceive caricatured fairy-tale simpletons; the cat and the fox, spudding Pinocchio, spent more intellectual energy than domestic swindlers of the recent past. Which, in particular, indicates that the population has not assimilated even these elementary tales, fables and parables.

The logical connection, it seems to me, is drawn very directly and firmly. To gain true respect, someone needs to be useful and even, let’s not be afraid of this word, powerful. Another thing is pity, sympathy and even love. But some right place in the right hierarchy is secured by real respect. It refers to the old man and old age as such, because it is universal.

In addition to free time, which can be used for a variety of feasible concerns, the valuable commodity that the old man brings to society and the family is his unique life experience. And the culture of society and the family is to cash out this experience. To do this, you need to have a genuine image of the world and life, to a large extent abstracted from the bright external surroundings, which changes every six months. I think this image is primary; the system of values ​​itself matures within him.

• What if old age gives us a chance?

In those families known to me where this image of the world can be traced, the elderly occupy a worthy place. In our modern culture, this image does not exist — at least, it must be picked out bit by bit and rebuilt. It (the culture) is almost 100% visual, cinematic and too tied to the outer row. Our last great writers (in my opinion, Arseny Tarkovsky, Trifonov and Okudzhava) carried the notorious image in their work, but the noisy time distracted not only the people, but also the intelligentsia from them. It is no coincidence that it was they who approached the image of a noble old man (but not in Trifonov’s The Old Man, in other works). And, perhaps, it was Bulat Okudzhava who did what Pushkin did not get his hands on: both in poetry and in life he created a positive, shameless image of old age, which can be taken as a guide.