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Vladimir Shatakishvili. The Most Russian Person
Word of the editor
Vladimir Shatakishvili. The Most Russian Person
It all started with cabbage
I'm on friendly terms with my memory…
"The table of the presidium"
From molecular level to atomic!
Author's retreat
Oh, neither tail, nor scales!
And a day lasts longer than a century…(the event which predetermined the fate of man)
Word from the author
Time is painting, timelessness is black
And tomorrow was war…
From the almost unreal sensations of Medyanik himself:
Continuation of a chapter from the book by A. Mosintsev:
And Victory break out!
“And a star speaks to a star…"
Without faith the Lord will not correct, without truth will not save
From the history of the Second-Athos Monastery of the Dormition on Mount Beshtau
Icon – a gift to the monastery
Visiting General
A good start is half the battle
All this is Suslov
Where did the general's epaulets fly?
The “Mayak” plant (Chelyabinsk-40):
Lermontov City:
Plant “Impulse”:
Motor transport:
Sanatorium “XXII(nd) party congress”:
Six Trips to Munich
My first car
Seeing-off in Tel Aviv
If I were the director…
Letter from Boston
Interview with Valery SEMIKHATOV
Transit to Yerevan
The Cheerful Family
“He is from another life”
Ifyou have a good time, then do it like the Russians
Three returns to life
Our friend – Roman Abramovich
Dinner at the Funicular Restaurant
The “Tridtsat chetvertiy skoryi”, or a slap in the face which has changed all life
Why don't we drink some beer?
There's nothing like beer with tasty fish
The blessed memory of R. V. Avedisova
Episode I
Episode II
Episode III
Episode IV
From the interview with N. I. Khoroshilov
Loud surname
The country is proud of them
Kindzmarauli
An excursion to Cricova cellars
Отрывок из книги
Vladimir Shatakishvili began to write books when his beloved wife got seriously ill. He had to do something just to stay in this world. The longing and bitterness overshadowed the whole world when the blue eyes of Lyudmila closed forever, but the fourteen-year-old Sandro (Alex), with a desperate hope, was looking at Vladimir with the same blue eyes. He had to live! So, he wrote dozens of notebooks with confessions of “resurrected” toastmaster, whose good friends never ceased to invite him to feasts, where he said lovely words wishing them eternal health, love, happiness and wealth… Having found out about his diaries, the son persuaded his father to publish these stories, and soon his books came out: “The Casket of Colourful Contemporaries” (2004), “Ball Wanted” (2005), “The Most Russian Person” (2007), “Companion at the Feast” (2012), “How Well We Lived Badly” (2014).
After reading the book by Vladimir Shatakishvili, you understand, that the fate was generous to him, it presented tens, hundreds of friends around the world. Communicating with them is a priceless gift. Meeting everyone, he worries every time if others will be better after talking to him. Having read his stories about Shota Gabritchidze, Bitchiko Davlianidze, Ivan Medyanik, Andrey Gedikyants, Gennadiy Novakhov, Amiran Hurtsiya, Sergo Mgaloblishvili, Maysuradze, Vyacheslav Shulzhenko, Boris Arustamov, David Topuria, Gela Lobzhanidze, Boris Rosenfeld, there is a feeling that you are exchanging your thoughts and feelings with his characters.
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A department at the Institute of Chemical Engineering was created specifically for… spies. Well, naturally, witty person used a joke very carefully. The department where the reactor was being born was officially called the “Hydrosector”. The neutral name was conceived as a distraction. And it turned out to actually distract the attention of spies, that is, technical intelligence in favor of foreign countries.
And then. Sketchy reactor designs were delivered quickly. An elevator shaft for the vertical channels of the reactor were prepared. Testing of individual stages took place directly on the machines of the pilot production. They say, probably, for good reason, all top-secret ideas, projects, developments, were made in super-super-super-secret areas, factories or entire cities. Such was the “invention” of the KGB, which Beria was very proud of.
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