Nevifleemsky starsAt me on a case in a cardboard box lie the Soviet fur-tree toys. They are devilishly fragile and are thus clumsy and aljapovaty. They are peeled and beaten by efforts of house and neighbour`s nasty boys. But in that December “ once a year “ they get threefold value: a subject of art, a symbol and a talisman.
as it is known, oranges and almonds do not grow on fur-trees. Against white Moscow silence the green fur-tree with colour heavy spheres always seemed a wild orange tree in any Italian garden. Since fur-trees began to decorate, toys shared on edible and inedible. Edible from year to year changed, inedible appeared again and again while natural fragility or malicious will andersenovskogo the troll from a casket did not put a limit to their existence. Happened also that any gold nut happily avoided eating, mumifitsirovalsja and definitively passed in the category of inedible, long-term toys.
we, adults, love fur-tree toys not because at us good taste that is why that in them we love the childhood. For it it is a pity nothing. Nostalgia as any original feeling, costs very expensively. Ask about it the teddy bears who have been loaded with money at auctions Sotheby ` s and Christie ` s. There are well-known collections of toys, including fur-tree.
but I not about collection, and about usual, ordinary viselki. What it is full in flea markets of Europe, especially in Germany, and it always surprised me, because on the earth ploughed when - that bombs American “ flying fortresses “ all has remained - from a shaving pocket mirror to a transparent New Year`s sphere. At us hardly probable you will find any subject on disorders. On flea markets these things have no price. Because are not on sale almost.
glass kolbochki break too easily. Now, in the world of hi-tech toys they look archaic and consequently marvellously considerable. Behind each of them mighty history, the family legend, a myth.
ornaments for a fur-tree are deeply intimate meetings, perhaps, the only thing that in our apartments endures generations. Their existence absolutely especially, toys run into deep summer hibernation and live every year so much, how many there lives in the house a fur-tree. As New year happens not every day, they are protected from the most terrible for test toys, namely game which the few leave safe. That is they always were to a certain extent artificial toys. Coarse and fragile, they seldom got to children on punishment, that was authorised to touch them only, and time in a year. “ toy onions or a toy sword - one poetry, in them are not present prose, there is no also a harm. The toy embodies idea of valour, passing all unattractive, terrestrial parties. It is soul of a sword, and blood will not soil it “ - Gilbert Kit Chesterton wrote in 1923. And so, Christmas-tree decorations were even not so much toys, how many symbols of toys.
when the old dusty box where, having buried in the heavy felted cotton wool (from imperial is taken out from mezzanines, should be, infirmaries), lie toys which are obviously more senior us, we are ready to sink into dotage. Nobody remembers, in what year, actually, them have bought. In this respect in each family there are legends: with to - revolutions, with to - wars. Catalogues are not present. Their antiquity is measured by eye. And definition it, of course, limps, because forms did not change decades. They are old so how much you remember them since the childhood. You will tell: they always were on our fur-tree. This brilliant hare - literally your relative, how many years are lived together side by side.
They such fragile that they can be taken out from the house only having wrapped up, as if chest children. Each New year for them - the heavy test, each moving is equal to a plague.
toys, the fruits which have grown on a fruitless tree, still store symbols of the nonexistent states. Their stars, hammers and sickles transform balls into Honour Signs. Their Chinese Father Frost is a representative on behalf of Great friendship. Their east Father Frost hints at the Arabian expansion which yet has been not complicated by quarrel with Naserom. They are hilarious and are not always beautiful. They old and tired. Them separately, they never examine a part mighty whole, a tradition part, a colour stain on a shaggy fur-tree breast. From a high fur-tree it to spit on our round dances and our fatal elections.
they have seen much, they remember, how many fur-trees on their century awarded a star, doing of it a tree - the hero. And all of them pulled down on a garbage heap of history. And only over Moscow towers of the Kremlin and skyscrapers rose in hoarfrost, as the huge become covered with hoarfrost stalagmites, huge stone fur-trees. Topped with our children`s toy, our not Bethlehem star.