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Story About the Old Wall Rug, by Nina Kossman

9/30/2020

1 Comment

 
Picture
Old Wall Rug, image provided from author's personal collection.

РАССКАЗ О СТАРОМ КОВРИКЕ   (Russian)

Этот коврик висел над моей кроватью в детстве, а до моего детства он висел над кроватью моего брата, а намного раньше - над кроватью моей мамы. Видите бахрому внизу? Когда я была маленькая, я заплетала эту бахрому в косички, также как мама заплетала косички мне. Я долго не могла научиться сама заплетать свои волосы и тренировалась на бахроме этого коврика. А ещё, глядя на этот коврик (снизу вверх, так как я глядела на него лёжа в кровати), я думала об изображенных на нём гномах. Видите, вот этот, в центре, в жёлтой остроконечной шляпе, наливает сок в чашку из большого гриба. Рядом, за столом под грибом, сидит белка со столовой ложкой в руках, кашу в миске размешивает (надеюсь, не манную). Тут же лягушка в штанах, тоже с ложкой в руках, терпеливо ждёт своей очереди. А слева, видите, большое дупло, и в нём Доктор Айболит лечит мышонка. А в очереди к Айболиту сидит ёж с перевязанной шеей и бельчонок с рукой в гипсе. Справа от гриба – гном-кузнец кует молотом по наковальне, а сама наковальня стоит на пеньке, похожим на маленький кекс. За гномом-кузнецом -- гном с балалайкой в руках, то ли в инвалидной коляске, то ли в свадебной карете, запряженной парой кузнечиков. За ним – раскидистое дерево и дверь в него и окно со ставнями; из окошка высунулся мышонок – то ли брат, то ли сын того мышонка, которому Айболит лечит зубы в левом углу ковра. На балконе этого дерева идёт веселье - тут и гном с трубкой в зубах и крысенок и целая вереница зверят. Всё это я разглядывала часами, днями, утрами, ночами, засыпая и просыпаясь, заплетая коврику косички и расплетая их, заплетая и расплетая. Этот коврик путешествовал с нами из страны в страну и много лет висел над моей кроватью в нашей квартире в Forest Hills, но в том возрасте я на него смотрела гораздо реже и не заплетала ему косички из бахромы. Когда я стала совсем взрослая, мы его почему-то сняли со стены, возможно, из-за ремонта, не помню точно, и он много лет провалялся на полке с какими-то наволочками, забытый всеми. Когда родилась дочка, я его разыскала. Я хотела, чтобы память о прошлом передавалась через него от поколения к поколению, от меня к ней. Повесила его над дочкиной кроватью, сказала «Смотри! Видишь, гном наливает сок из гриба в чашку, а белка размешивает ложкой кашу, надеюсь, не манную." Но моей американской дочке был не интересен этот старый серенький коврик. Она привыкла к ярким электронным игрушкам, видео, компьютерной рисовальной доске. Коврик был снят со стены не помню кем, когда мы переезжали, и потерялся. Я не видела его много лет. И только позавчера нашла его на какой-то полке. Он такой же, как был много лет назад, только давно ему никто не заплетал косички.

Story About the Old Wall Rug

When I was a child, this wall rug hung over my bed, and before I was born, it hung over my brother's bed, and many years earlier it hung over my mother's bed.  See the fringe below? When I was little, I braided it in pigtails, just like my mother braided my hair. For a long time, I couldn’t learn to braid my hair myself and practiced on the fringe of this rug. And also, looking at this wall rug (from the bottom up, since I was looking at it while lying in bed), I thought about the gnomes depicted on it. See, this one in the center, in a yellow pointy hat, is pouring juice into a cup from a large mushroom. Nearby, at the table under the mushroom, sits a squirrel with a tablespoon in his hands, stirring porridge in a bowl. And in front of the table stands a frog in trousers, also with a spoon in hand, patiently waits for his turn. And on the left, you can see a large hollow in the tree, where Doctor Aibolit* is treating a mouse. Patients are waiting to see Doctor Aibolit: a hedgehog with a bandaged neck and a squirrel with its arm in a cast. To the right of the mushroom is another gnome, a blacksmith who hammers the anvil which stands on a stump, like a small cake. Behind the blacksmith gnome is another gnome, with a balalaika in his hands; he is sitting either in a wheelchair or in a wedding carriage drawn by a pair of grasshoppers. Behind him is a spreading tree, and it has a door and a window with shutters: a mouse leans out of the window - either a brother or the son of that other mouse, the one whose teeth Doctor Aibolit is treating in the left corner of the carpet. And take a look at the balcony of the tree - there is a gnome with a pipe in his mouth, and rats and a whole queue of animals. I looked at all this for hours, days, mornings, nights, falling asleep and waking up, braiding the braids and unweaving them, braiding and unweaving. This rug traveled with us from country to country and for many years hung over my bed in our apartment in Forest Hills, but at that age I looked at it much less often and did not braid the fringe. When I became an adult, we took it off the wall, probably because all the walls in our apartment had to be repainted, I don't remember exactly, and for many years it lay on a shelf with some kind of pillowcases, forgotten by everyone. When my daughter was born, I tracked it down. I wanted the memory of the past to be passed on through this wall rug from generation to generation, from me to her. I hung it over my daughter's bed, saying “Look at it! So many years have passed, and the gnome is still pouring the juice from the big mushroom into the cup, and the squirrel is still stirring the porridge with a spoon”. But my American daughter was not interested in this old wall rug. She was used to bright electronic toys, videos, the speed of the internet, a laptop drawing board. I can’t remember who removed the rug from the wall when we moved. After this it was lost again, and I didn’t see it for years. Only the day before yesterday I found it lying in an old closet. It is still the same as it was many years ago, only it’s been a while since anyone braided its braids.

Nina Kossman

* Doctor Aibolit – literally Dr. Ouch-It-Hurts, a doctor from a famous children’s poem by Kornei Chukovsky.

Moscow born,  Nina Kossman is an artist, bilingual writer, poet, translator of Russian poetry, painter, and playwright. Her paintings and sculptures have been exhibited in Moscow, Philadelphia, and New York. Her English short stories and poems have been published in US, Canadian and British journals. Her Russian poems and short stories have been published in major Russian literary journals. Among her published works are two books of poems in Russian and English, two volumes of translations of Marina Tsvetaeva’s poems, two collections of short stories, an anthology (Gods and Mortals: Modern Poems on Classical Myths) published by Oxford University Press, and a novel. Her new book of English poems, Other Shepherds, is forthcoming from Poets & Traitors Press. Her work has been translated into Greek, Japanese, Russian, and Spanish. She received a UNESCO/PEN Short Story Award, an NEA translation fellowship, and grants from Foundation for Hellenic Culture, the Onassis Public Benefit Foundation, and Fundacion Valparaiso. She lives in New York. 
1 Comment
Susan Hotaling
3/14/2025 10:23:24 pm

Nina Kossman story about The Old Wall Rug. I have that exact tapestry, trying to find out information about it. Any help would be appreciated.
Thanks

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