FICTION
Sergei Dovlatov
AUNT MARA
At first, Aunt Mara had worked as a shipping clerk . Then
she became a qualified typographer, a linotyper, if I'm not mistaken.
Some time later, she moved up to being a copy editor, and after that,
a secretary to the editorial board.
And then, for her whole life, she edited other people's books.
My aunt edited the books of many remarkable writers-Ty–
nianov, Zoshchenko, Forsh, to give a few examples. Judging by the
personal inscriptions , Zoshchenko thought very highly of her. He
kept thanking her for the work they did together.
Auntie was an eye-catching woman, though there was some–
thing a little false in her torrid American beauty, as there is in a
mountain landscape or Lermontov's romantic verse. She was obser–
vant and witty. She had a very good memory. Many of the stories
she told have stayed with me to this day. For example, this one.
She happened to meet Mikhail Zoshchenko on the street. The
difficult times of official disfavor had already started for him.
Zoshchenko turned his head and quickly walked past her.
My aunt caught up with him and asked, "Why aren't you say–
ing hello to me?"
Zoshchenko grinned and said, "Excuse me. I'm trying to make
it easy for my friends not to say hello to me ."
My aunt edited Yuri Gherman, Kornilov, Seifulina, even
Aleksei Tolstoi. She had something to tell about each of them .
One time Olga Forsh was at a resort for writers and was look–
ing through the "Complaint Book." She found the following entry:
"We keep finding all kinds of forest insects in the kasha. Not long ago
at supper I came upon a large horned beetle. "
"What do you think," Forsh asked my aunt, "was it a grievance
or a note of thanks?"
Editor's Note: Copyright
©
1988 by Sergei Dovlatov, translated by Anne Frydman,
from
Ours,
to be published by Weidenfeld
&
Nicolson in 1988.
