Solzhenitsyn cancer ward history of creation. Cancer building

Alexander Solzhenitsyn

PART ONE

Not cancer at all

The Cancer Ward also wore number thirteen. Pavel Nikolaevich Rusanov never was and could not be superstitious, but something sank in him when they wrote in his direction: “Thirteenth Corps.” I wasn’t smart enough to call the thirteenth something leaky or intestinal.

However, in the entire republic they could not help him anywhere except this clinic.

But I don’t have cancer, doctor? I don't have cancer, do I? - Pavel Nikolaevich asked hopefully, lightly touching his right side neck its evil tumor, growing almost every day, and the outside is still covered with harmless white skin.

“No, no, of course not,” Dr. Dontsova reassured him for the tenth time, scribbling out pages in the medical history in her flourishing handwriting. When she wrote, she put on glasses - rounded rectangular ones, and as soon as she stopped writing, she took them off. She was no longer young, and she looked pale and very tired.

This was at an outpatient appointment a few days ago. Appointed to the cancer department even for an outpatient appointment, the patients no longer slept at night. And Dontsova ordered Pavel Nikolaevich to lie down as quickly as possible.

Not only the disease itself, not foreseen, not prepared, which came like a squall in two weeks on the careless happy person, - but Pavel Nikolaevich was now no less depressed by the illness that he had to go to this clinic for general principles I didn’t remember when he was treated. They started calling Evgeny Semyonovich, and Shendyapin, and Ulmasbaev, and they, in turn, called and found out the possibilities, and whether there was a special ward in this clinic or whether it was possible to at least temporarily organize a small room as a special ward. But due to the cramped conditions here, nothing came of it.

And the only thing we managed to agree on through the head doctor was that it would be possible to bypass the emergency room, the general bathhouse and the changing room.

And in their little blue Muscovite, Yura drove his father and mother to the very steps of the Thirteenth Building.

Despite the frost, two women in washed cotton robes stood on the open stone porch - they shivered, but stood.

Starting with these unkempt robes, everything here was unpleasant for Pavel Nikolaevich: the cement floor of the porch, too worn out by feet; dull door handles, grasped by the hands of the sick; a lobby of people waiting with peeling paint on the floor, high olive panel walls (the olive color seemed dirty) and large slatted benches on which patients who had come from far away did not fit and sat on the floor - Uzbeks in quilted cotton robes, old Uzbek women in white scarves, and young - in purple, red and green, and everyone in boots and galoshes. One Russian guy was lying, occupying an entire bench, with his coat unbuttoned and hanging to the floor, exhausted himself, his stomach swollen, and constantly screaming in pain. And these screams deafened Pavel Nikolaevich and hurt him so much, as if the guy was screaming not about himself, but about him.

Pavel Nikolaevich turned pale to the lips, stopped and whispered:

Mouth guard! I'll die here. No need. We'll be back.

Kapitolina Matveevna took his hand firmly and squeezed:

Pashenka! Where will we return?.. And what next?

Well, maybe things will work out somehow with Moscow...

Kapitolina Matveevna turned to her husband with her wide head, still broadened by lush copper-cut curls:

Pashenka! Moscow is maybe another two weeks, maybe it won’t be possible. How can you wait? After all, every morning it is bigger!

His wife squeezed him tightly at the wrist, conveying cheerfulness. In civil and official matters, Pavel Nikolayevich himself was unwavering - the more pleasant and calm it was for him to always rely on his wife in family matters: she decided everything important quickly and correctly.

And the guy on the bench was torn and screaming!

Maybe the doctors will agree to go home... We'll pay... - Pavel Nikolaevich answered hesitantly.

Pasik! - the wife inspired, suffering together with her husband, - you know, I myself am always the first for this: to call a person and pay. But we found out: these doctors don’t come, they don’t take money. And they have equipment. It is forbidden…

Pavel Nikolaevich himself understood that it was impossible. He said this just in case.

By agreement with the head physician of the oncology dispensary, the older sister was supposed to be waiting for them at two o'clock in the afternoon here, at the bottom of the stairs, down which the patient was now carefully descending on crutches. But of course, older sister she was not there, and her closet under the stairs was locked.

You can't come to an agreement with anyone! - Kapitolina Matveevna flushed. - Why do they only get paid a salary?

As she was, hugged on the shoulders by two silver foxes, Kapitolina Matveevna walked along the corridor, where it was written: “In outerwear entry prohibited."

Pavel Nikolaevich remained standing in the lobby. Fearfully, with a slight tilt of his head to the right, he felt his tumor between the collarbone and jaw. It seemed that in the half hour since he had been home in last time I looked at her in the mirror, wrapping my muffler around her - in those half an hour she seemed to have grown even more. Pavel Nikolaevich felt weak and wanted to sit down. But the benches seemed dirty and we also had to ask some woman in a headscarf with a greasy bag on the floor between her legs to move. Even from afar, the stinking smell from this bag seemed not to reach Pavel Nikolaevich.

And when will our population learn to travel with clean, neat suitcases! (However, now, with the tumor, it was no longer the same.)

Suffering from the screams of that guy and from everything that his eyes saw, and from everything that entered through his nose, Rusanov stood, slightly leaning against the ledge of the wall. A man came in from outside, carrying in front of him a half-liter jar with a sticker, almost full of yellow liquid. He carried the can not hiding it, but proudly raising it, like a mug of beer standing in line. Just before Pavel Nikolaevich, almost handing him this jar, the man stopped, wanted to ask, but looked at the seal's hat and turned away, looking further, to the patient on crutches:

Honey! Where should I take this, eh?

The legless man showed him the laboratory door.

Pavel Nikolaevich simply felt sick.

The outer door opened again - and a sister came in wearing only a white robe, not pretty, too long-faced. She immediately noticed Pavel Nikolaevich and guessed, and approached him.

Sorry,” she said through a puff, blushing to the color of her painted lips, she was in such a hurry. - Excuse me, please! Have you been waiting for me for a long time? They brought medicine there, I take it.

Pavel Nikolaevich wanted to answer caustically, but restrained himself. He was glad that the wait was over. Yura came up, carrying a suitcase and a bag of groceries, in just a suit, without a hat, as he was driving a car - very calm, with his high light forelock swaying.

Let's go! - the older sister led to her closet under the stairs. - I know, Nizamutdin Bakhramovich told me, you will be in your underwear and brought your pajamas, just not yet worn, right?

From the shop.

This is mandatory, otherwise disinfection is needed, you understand? This is where you change clothes.

She opened the plywood door and turned on the light. There was no window in the closet with a sloping ceiling, but there were many colored pencil charts hanging.

Yura silently carried his suitcase there, went out, and Pavel Nikolaevich went in to change clothes. The older sister rushed to go somewhere else during this time, but then Kapitolina Matveevna approached:

Girl, are you in such a hurry?

Yes a-a little...

What is your name?

What a strange name. Are you not Russian?

You made us wait.

Excuse me, please. I'm currently receiving...

So listen, Mita, I want you to know. My husband... is an honored man, a very valuable worker. His name is Pavel Nikolaevich.

Pavel Nikolaevich, okay, I'll remember.

You see, he’s generally used to being taken care of, but now he has this serious illness. Is it possible to arrange for a permanent nurse to be on duty around him?

Mita's worried, restless face became even more worried. She shook her head:

In addition to operating rooms for sixty people, we have three nurses on duty during the day. And at night two.

Well, you see! You'll die here, scream - they won't come.

Why do you think so? They approach everyone.

To “everyone”!.. If she said “to everyone”, then O explain to her?

Besides, are your sisters changing?

Yes, twelve hours.

This impersonal treatment is terrible!.. I would sit with my daughter in shifts! I would invite a permanent nurse at my own expense, but they tell me that this is not possible...?

I think it's impossible. No one has done this before. There isn't even room to put a chair in the room.

My God, I can imagine what kind of room this is! You still need to see this room! How many beds are there?

1

However, in the entire republic they could not help him anywhere except this clinic.

But I don’t have cancer, doctor? I don't have cancer, do I? - Pavel Nikolaevich asked hopefully, lightly touching his evil tumor on the right side of his neck, growing almost every day, and on the outside still covered with harmless white skin.

Not only the disease itself, not foreseen, not prepared, which came like a squall in two weeks on a carefree happy person, but no less than the disease, Pavel Nikolaevich was now oppressed by the fact that he had to go to this clinic on a general basis, how he was treated, he no longer remembered when . They began to call Evgeniy Semenovich, and Shendyapin, and Ulmasbaev, and they in turn called, found out the possibilities, and whether there was a special ward in this clinic or whether it was possible to at least temporarily organize a small room as a special ward. But due to the cramped conditions here, nothing came of it.

And the only thing we managed to agree on through the head doctor was that it would be possible to bypass the emergency room, the general bathhouse and the changing room.

And in their blue Muscovite, Yura drove his father and mother to the very steps of the Thirteenth Building.

Despite the frost, two women in washed cotton robes stood on the open stone porch - they shivered, but stood.

Pavel Nikolaevich turned pale to the lips, stopped and whispered:

Mouth guard! I'll die here. No need. We'll be back.

Kapitolina Matveevna took his hand firmly and squeezed:

Well, maybe things will work out somehow with Moscow... Kapitolina Matveevna turned to her husband with her whole wide head, still broadened by lush copper-cut curls:

Pashenka! Moscow is maybe another two weeks, maybe it won’t be possible. How can you wait? After all, every morning it is bigger!

And the guy on the bench was torn and screaming!

Maybe the doctors will agree to go home... We'll pay... - Pavel Nikolaevich answered hesitantly.

Pavel Nikolaevich himself understood that it was impossible. He said this just in case.

By agreement with the head physician of the oncology dispensary, the older sister was supposed to be waiting for them at two o'clock in the afternoon here, at the bottom of the stairs, down which the patient was now carefully descending on crutches. But, of course, the older sister was not there, and her closet under the stairs was locked.

You can't come to an agreement with anyone! - Kapitolina Matveevna flushed. - Why do they only get paid a salary?

As she was, hugged on the shoulders by two silver foxes, Kapitolina Matveevna walked along the corridor, where it was written: “Entry is prohibited in outer clothing.”

Pavel Nikolaevich remained standing in the lobby. Fearfully, with a slight tilt of his head to the right, he felt his tumor between the collarbone and jaw. It was as if in the half hour since he last looked at her in the mirror at home, wrapping his muffler around her, she seemed to have grown even more. Pavel Nikolaevich felt weak and wanted to sit down. But the benches seemed dirty and we also had to ask some woman in a headscarf with a greasy bag on the floor between her legs to move. Even from afar, the stinking smell from this bag seemed not to reach Pavel Nikolaevich.

And when will our population learn to travel with clean, neat suitcases! (However, now, with the tumor, it was no longer the same.)

Year of writing:

1968

Reading time:

Description of the work:

Cancer Ward is a novel written by Alexander Solzhenitsyn. The works were written by the author over three years, the plot was based on the memoirs of Solzhenitsyn. In 1954, he was treated in a cancer hospital. As a result, the entire work was not published in the USSR. At that moment it was fully printed only in the West.

Among other things, Solzhenitsyn was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature for his novel “Cancer Ward.” Below you can read a summary famous novel writer "Cancer Ward".

Summary of the novel
Cancer building

Everyone was gathered by this terrible building - the thirteenth, cancerous one. The persecuted and the persecutors, the silent and the cheerful, the hard workers and the money-grubbers - he gathered and depersonalized them all, all of them are now only seriously ill, torn from familiar surroundings, rejected and rejected everything familiar and familiar. Now they have no other home, no other life. They come here with pain, with doubt - cancer or not, to live or die? However, no one thinks about death, it doesn’t exist. Ephraim, with a bandaged neck, walks around and whines, “This is our great business,” but he doesn’t even think about death, despite the fact that the bandages are rising higher and higher, and the doctors are becoming more and more silent - he doesn’t want to believe in death and doesn’t believe . He is an old-timer, the illness left him for the first time and now it will let him go. Nikolay Pavlovich Rusanov is a responsible employee who dreams of a well-deserved personal pension. I ended up here by accident, if I really need to go to a hospital, it’s not this one, where the conditions are so barbaric (no separate room for you, no specialists and care befitting his position). Yes, and there were a lot of people in the ward, the Ogloed alone is worth something - an exile, a rude man and a malingerer.

And Kostoglotov (the same insightful Rusanov called him Ogloedom) no longer considers himself sick. Twelve days ago he crawled into the clinic not sick, but dying, and now he even has some “vaguely pleasant” dreams, and he’s eager to go on a visit - a clear sign of recovery. It couldn’t have been any other way, he’s already endured so much: he fought, then he sat in prison, he didn’t finish college (and now he’s thirty-four, too late), he wasn’t hired as an officer, he was exiled forever, and then there’s cancer. You cannot find a more stubborn, corrosive patient: he is sick professionally (he studied a book of pathological anatomy), he seeks an answer from specialists for every question, he found a doctor Maslennikov, who treats him with a miracle medicine - chaga. And he’s ready to go on a search himself, to be treated like any living creature is treated, but he can’t go to Russia, where amazing trees grow - birches...

A wonderful way of recovery with the help of tea from chaga (birch mushroom) revived and interested all cancer patients, who were tired and lost faith. But Oleg Kostoglotov is not the kind of person to reveal all his secrets with this free., but not taught the “wisdom of life’s sacrifices”, who do not know how to throw off everything unnecessary, superfluous and be treated...

Believing in all folk medicines (here are chaga and the Issyk-Kul root - aconite), Oleg Kostoglotov is very wary of any “scientific” intervention in his body, which greatly annoys the attending physicians Vera Kornilievna Gangart and Lyudmila Afanasyevna Dontsova. With the latest Ogloed everything is falling apart straight Talk, but Lyudmila Afanasyevna, “giving in a little” (cancelling one session of radiation therapy), with medical cunning, immediately prescribes a “small” injection of sinestrol, a medicine that kills, as Oleg later found out, the only joy in life that remained for him, the past after fourteen years of deprivation, which he experienced every time he met Vega (Vera Gangart). Does a doctor have the right to cure a patient at any cost? Should the patient and does he want to survive at any cost? Oleg Kostoglotov cannot discuss this with Vera Gangart, no matter how much he wants. Vega's blind faith in science collides with Oleg's confidence in the forces of nature, man, and his own strength. And both of them make concessions: Vera Kornilievna asks and Oleg pours out the infusion of the root, agrees to a blood transfusion, to an injection, which seemingly destroys the last joy available to Oleg on earth. The joy of loving and being loved.

And Vega accepts this sacrifice: self-denial is so much in the nature of Vera Gangart that she cannot imagine any other life. Having passed through fourteen deserts of loneliness in the name of his only love, which began very early and ended tragically, having gone through fourteen years of madness for the sake of the boy who called her Vega and died in the war, she was only now completely convinced that she was right; it was today that her long-term loyalty acquired a new, complete meaning. Now, when I have met a person who, like her, has endured years of hardship and loneliness on his shoulders, who, like her, has not bent under this weight and is therefore so close, dear, understanding and understandable, it is worth living for such a meeting!

A person must go through a lot and change his mind before he comes to such an understanding of life; not everyone is given this. So Zoenka, bee-Zoenka, no matter how much she likes Kostoglotov, will not even sacrifice her position as a nurse, and even more so will try to protect herself from a person with whom you can secretly kiss from everyone in a dead-end corridor, but you cannot create real family happiness ( with children, embroidery floss, pillows and many, many other joys available to others). The same height as Vera Kornilievna, Zoya is much denser, which is why she seems larger and more dignified. And in their relationship with Oleg there is no that fragility and understatement that reigns between Kostoglotov and Gangart. As a future doctor, Zoya (a medical student) perfectly understands the “doom” of the sick Kostoglotov. It is she who opens his eyes to the secret of the new injection prescribed by Dontsova. And again, like the pulsation of veins - is it worth living after this? Is it worth it?..

And Lyudmila Afanasyevna herself is no longer convinced of the impeccability of the scientific approach. Once upon a time, about fifteen to twenty years ago, radiation therapy, which saved so many lives, seemed to be a universal method, just a godsend for oncologists. And only now, in the last two years, patients, former patients of oncology clinics, began to appear with obvious changes in those places where particularly strong doses of radiation were applied. And now Lyudmila Afanasyevna has to write a report on the topic “Radiation sickness” and go over in her memory the cases of the return of “radiation workers”. And her own pain in the stomach, a symptom familiar to her as an oncologist, suddenly shook her former confidence, determination and authority. Is it possible to raise the question of a doctor’s right to treat? No, Kostoglotov is clearly wrong here, but this does little to reassure Lyudmila Afanasyevna. Depression is the state in which doctor Dontsova finds herself, this is what really begins to bring her, so unattainable before, closer to her patients. “I did what I could. But I’m wounded and I’m falling too.”

Rusanov’s tumor has already subsided, but this news does not bring him any joy or relief. His illness made him think about too many things, made him stop and look around. No, he does not doubt the correctness of the life he lived, but others may not understand, may not forgive (neither anonymous letters, nor signals, which he was simply obliged to send out of duty, out of duty as an honest citizen, finally). They didn't care so much about him other(for example, Kostoglotov, what does he even understand in life: Ogloed, one word!), How many are his own children: how to explain everything to them? There is only one hope for daughter Avieta: she is correct, her father’s pride, and smart. The hardest thing is with my son Yurka: he is too trusting and naive, spineless. It’s a pity for him, how can such a spineless person live? This reminds Rusanov very much of one of the conversations in the ward at the beginning of treatment. The main speaker was Ephraim: having stopped itching, he read for a long time some little book that Kostoglotov slipped him, thought for a long time, was silent, and then said: “How does a person live?” Contentment, specialty, homeland (native places), air, bread, water - many different assumptions rained down. And only Nikolai Pavlovich confidently minted: “People live by ideology and the public good.” The moral of the book written by Leo Tolstoy turned out to be completely “not ours.” Love-bo-view... It smells like slobbering a kilometer away! Ephraim became thoughtful, sad, and left the room without saying another word. The wrongness of the writer, whose name he had never heard before, seemed less obvious to him. They discharged Ephraim, and a day later they brought him back from the station, under the sheet. And everyone who continued to live became completely sad.

The one who is not going to succumb to his illness, his grief, his fear is Demka, who absorbs everything that is said in the ward. He went through a lot in his sixteen years: his father abandoned his mother (and Demka doesn’t blame him, because she “got crazy”), the mother had no time for her son at all, and he, in spite of everything, tried to survive, learn, get back on his feet. The only joy left for the orphan is football. He suffered for it: a blow to the leg and cancer. For what? Why? A boy with an overly mature face, a heavy gaze, no talent (according to Vadim, his roommate), but very diligent and thoughtful. He reads (a lot and stupidly), studies (and has missed too much), dreams of going to college to create literature (because he loves the truth, his “ public life very inflaming"). Everything is a first for him: discussions about the meaning of life, and a new unusual look on religion (Aunt Stefa, who is not ashamed to cry), and first bitter love (and that one - sick, hopeless). But the desire to live is so strong in him that even losing his leg seems like a good solution: more time to study (you don’t have to run to dances), you will receive disability benefits (enough for bread, but you can do without sugar), and most importantly - alive !

And Demkin’s love, Asenka, amazed him with her impeccable knowledge of her entire life. It was as if this girl had just come from the skating rink, or from the dance floor, or from the cinema, dropped into the clinic for five minutes, just to get checked, but here, behind the walls of the cancer clinic, all her conviction remained. Who will need her now, one-breasted, of all her life experience All that came out was: there is no point in living now! The demo may have said why: he came up with something during his long treatment-teaching (life teaching, as Kostoglotov instructed, is the only true teaching), but it doesn’t work out This into words.

And all of Asenka’s swimsuits are left behind, unworn and unbought, all of Rusanov’s profiles are unchecked and unfinished, all of Efremov’s construction projects are unfinished. The entire “order of world things” has been overturned. The first experience with the disease crushed Dontsova like a frog. Dr. Oreshchenkov no longer recognizes his beloved student, he looks and looks at her confusion, understanding how modern man helpless in the face of death. Dormidont Tikhonovich himself, over the years of medical practice (and clinical, advisory, and private practice), for long years losses, and especially after the death of his wife, as if he realized something different in this life. And this difference manifested itself primarily in the eyes of the doctor, the main “tool” of communication with patients and students. In his gaze, which to this day is attentive and firm, a reflection of some kind of renunciation is noticeable. The old man wants nothing, just a copper plate on the door and a bell accessible to any passerby. From Lyudochka he expected greater stamina and endurance.

Always collected, Vadim Zatsyrko, who was afraid to spend even a minute in inactivity all his life, has been lying in the ward of the cancer ward for a month. A month - and he is no longer convinced of the need to accomplish a feat worthy of his talent and leave people behind new method search for ores and die a hero (twenty-seven years old - Lermontov’s age!).

The general despondency that reigned in the ward is not disturbed even by the diversity of the change of patients: Demka descends into the surgical room and two newcomers appear in the ward. The first took Demka's bed - in the corner, by the door. Eagle owl - Pavel Nikolaevich dubbed him, proud of his insight. Indeed, this patient looks like an old, wise bird. Very stooped, with a worn-out face, with bulging, puffy eyes - a “ward silent man”; life, it seems, has taught him only one thing: to sit and quietly listen to everything that was said in his presence. A librarian who once graduated from an agricultural academy, a Bolshevik since 1917, a participant in the civil war, a man who has renounced life - that’s who this lonely old man is. Without friends, his wife died, his children forgot, his illness made him even more lonely - an outcast, defending the idea of moral socialism in a dispute with Kostoglotov, despising himself and the life spent in silence. Kostoglotov, who loved to listen and hear, learns all this one sunny spring day... Something unexpected, joyful presses Oleg Kostoglotov’s chest. It started on the eve of discharge, I was happy with the thoughts of Vega, I was happy with the upcoming “release” from the clinic, I was happy with new unexpected news from the newspapers, I was also happy with nature itself, which finally broke through with bright sunny days, turning green with the first timid greenery. It was nice to be back eternal exile, in darling native Ush-Terek. To where the Kadmin family lives, the most happy people of everyone he had met in his life. In his pocket there are two pieces of paper with the addresses of Zoya and Vega, but it is unbearably large for him, who has experienced a lot and given up a lot, it would be such simple, such earthly happiness. After all, there is already an unusually delicate blooming apricot in one of the courtyards of the abandoned city, there is a pink spring morning, a proud goat, a nilgai antelope and the beautiful distant star Vega... What makes people alive.

You have read the summary of the novel "Cancer Ward". We also invite you to visit the Summary section to read the summaries of other popular writers.

The novel was originally planned to be published in the magazine New world"in the mid-1960s. However, in those years the book was never officially published in the Soviet Union. A little later, the novel began to be published in samizdat and distributed throughout the USSR. In addition, the book was published in other countries in Russian and in translations. The novel became one of the biggest literary success A. Solzhenitsyn. The work becomes the basis for awarding the author Nobel Prize. In 1990, the novel was officially published in the Soviet Union in the New World magazine.

The action takes place in a hospital at the clinic of the Tashkent Medical Institute (TashMi). The thirteenth (“cancer”) building gathered people affected by one of the most terrible diseases, undefeated by humanity to the end. With no other activities to do, patients spend their time engaged in numerous debates about ideology, life and death. Each inhabitant of the gloomy building has his own fate and his own way out of this creepy place: some are discharged home to die, others with improvement, and others are transferred to other departments.

Characteristics

Oleg Kostoglotov

Main character Romana is a former front-line soldier. Kostoglotov (or as his comrades in misfortune call him, Ogloed) went to prison and was then sentenced to eternal exile in Kazakhstan. Kostoglotov does not consider himself dying. He does not trust “scientific” medicine, preferring it folk remedies. Ogloed is 34 years old. He once dreamed of becoming an officer and getting a higher education. However, none of his wishes came true. He was not accepted as an officer, and he will no longer go to college, since he considers himself too old to study. Kostoglotov likes the doctor Vera Gangart (Vega) and the nurse Zoya. Ogloed is full of desire to live and take everything from life.

Informer Rusanov

Before being admitted to the hospital, a patient named Rusanov held a “responsible” position. He was an adherent of the Stalinist system and made more than one denunciation in his life. Rusanov, like Ogloed, does not intend to die. He dreams of a decent pension, which he has earned through his hard “work.” The former informer doesn't like the hospital he ended up in. A person like him, Rusanov believes, should undergo treatment in better conditions.

Demka is one of the youngest patients in the ward. The boy has experienced a lot in his 16 years. His parents separated because his mother became a bitch. There was no one to raise Demka. He became an orphan with living parents. The boy dreamed of getting on his own feet and getting a higher education. The only joy in Demka’s life was football. But it was his favorite sport that took away his health. After being hit in the leg by a ball, the boy developed cancer. The leg had to be amputated.

But this could not break the orphan. Demka continues to dream about higher education. He perceives the loss of his leg as a blessing. After all, now he won’t have to waste time on sports and dance floors. The state will pay the boy a lifelong pension, which means he will be able to study and become a writer. Demka met his first love, Asenka, in the hospital. But both Asenka and Demka understand that this feeling will not continue beyond the walls of the “cancer” building. The girl's breasts were amputated, and life lost all meaning for her.

Efrem Podduvaev

Ephraim worked as a builder. One day terrible disease I have already “let go” of him. Podduvaev is confident that this time everything will work out. Shortly before his death, he read a book by Leo Tolstoy, which made him think about many things. Ephraim is discharged from the hospital. After some time he was gone.

Vadim Zatsyrko

Geologist Vadim Zatsyrko also has a great thirst for life. Vadim was always afraid of only one thing - inaction. And now he has been in the hospital for a month. Zatsyrko is 27 years old. He's too young to die. At first, the geologist tries to ignore death, continuing to work on a method for determining the presence of ores from radioactive waters. Then self-confidence begins to gradually leave him.

Alexey Shulubin

Librarian Shulubin managed to tell a lot in his life. In 1917 he became a Bolshevik, then participated in civil war. He had no friends, his wife died. Shulubin had children, but they had long forgotten about his existence. The illness became the last step towards loneliness for the librarian. Shulubin doesn't like to talk. He's much more interested in listening.

Character prototypes

Some of the novel's characters had prototypes. The prototype of the doctor Lyudmila Dontsova was Lydia Dunaeva, head of the radiation department. The author named the treating doctor Irina Meike as Vera Gangart in his novel.

The “cancer” corps united great amount different people with different destinies. Perhaps they would never have met outside the walls of this hospital. But then something appeared that united them - a disease from which it is not always possible to recover even in the progressive twentieth century.

Cancer made people equal of different ages, having different social status. The disease behaves in the same way with both the high-ranking Rusanov and the former prisoner Ogloed. Cancer does not spare those who have already been offended by fate. Left without parental care, Demka loses his leg. Forgotten by his loved ones, librarian Shulubin will not have a happy old age. Disease rids society of the old and infirm, without anyone the right people. But why then does she take the young, beautiful, full of life and plans for the future? Why should a young geologist leave this world before reaching the age of thirty, without having time to give humanity what he wanted? Questions remain unanswered.

Only when they found themselves far from the hustle and bustle of everyday life did the inhabitants of the “cancer” building finally have the opportunity to think about the meaning of life. All their lives these people have been striving for something: they dreamed of higher education, of family happiness, of having time to create something. Some patients, such as Rusanov, were not too picky about the methods they used to achieve their goals. But the moment came when all successes, achievements, sorrows and joys ceased to have any meaning. On the threshold of death, the tinsel of existence loses its luster. And only then does a person understand that the main thing in his life was life itself.

CANCER CASE

PART ONE

However, in the entire republic they could not help him anywhere except this clinic.

And the only thing we managed to agree on through the head doctor was that it would be possible to bypass the emergency room, the general bathhouse and the changing room.

And in their blue Muscovite, Yura drove his father and mother to the very steps of the Thirteenth Building.

Despite the frost, two women in washed cotton robes stood on the open stone porch - they shivered, but stood.

Pavel Nikolaevich turned pale to the lips, stopped and whispered:

Mouth guard! I'll die here. No need. We'll be back.

Kapitolina Matveevna took his hand firmly and squeezed:

Well, maybe things will work out somehow with Moscow... Kapitolina Matveevna turned to her husband with her whole wide head, still broadened by lush copper-cut curls:

Pashenka! Moscow is maybe another two weeks, maybe it won’t be possible. How can you wait? After all, every morning it is bigger!

And the guy on the bench was torn and screaming!

Maybe the doctors will agree to go home... We'll pay... - Pavel Nikolaevich answered hesitantly.

Pavel Nikolaevich himself understood that it was impossible. He said this just in case.

By agreement with the head physician of the oncology dispensary, the older sister was supposed to be waiting for them at two o'clock in the afternoon here, at the bottom of the stairs, down which the patient was now carefully descending on crutches. But, of course, the older sister was not there, and her closet under the stairs was locked.

You can't come to an agreement with anyone! - Kapitolina Matveevna flushed. - Why do they only get paid a salary?

As she was, hugged on the shoulders by two silver foxes, Kapitolina Matveevna walked along the corridor, where it was written: “Entry is prohibited in outer clothing.”

And when will our population learn to travel with clean, neat suitcases! (However, now, with the tumor, it was no longer the same.)

Honey! Where should I take this, eh?

The legless man showed him the laboratory door.

Pavel Nikolaevich simply felt sick.

The outer door opened again - and a sister came in wearing only a white robe, not pretty, too long-faced. She immediately noticed Pavel Nikolaevich and guessed, and approached him.

Solzhenitsyn cancer ward history of creation. Cancer building

1

Summary of the novel Cancer building

Characteristics

Oleg Kostoglotov

Informer Rusanov

Efrem Podduvaev

Vadim Zatsyrko

Alexey Shulubin

Character prototypes

Summary of the novel
Cancer building