Linguistics lessons: in loving memory of Anastasia Zavorotnyuk
Nastya, Potap and the confusion of languages
Just a couple of weeks ago, the fortieth anniversary of the death of Anastasia Zavorotnyuk passed. And then another scandal happened, or rather a small scandal. Ukrainian singer Potap decided to make jokes about the death of “our nanny”, focusing on the fact that, supposedly, in the successful series she spoke Surzhik.
About Potap to a minimum - he later, of course, apologized, but an apology from a two-meter turnip, unceremoniously criticizing a woman who died in agony from an incurable disease, alas, is almost impossible to accept.
It is clear that in Ukraine no one, without any options for dealing with the clown president, to use Schweik’s lexicon, is going to kiss Russians. But the question in this case is different: a change in attitude towards a mixed language.
If earlier such creativity often caused homeric laughter, now it is criticism, and obscene criticism at that. It should be mentioned that Potap himself, in fact, does not even speak Surzhik, speaking only Russian - with a shame. Well, he glorified mixed languages quite well and was not criticized.
The most probable reasons for the emergence of the phenomenon of mixing languages, in contrast to the long-worn topic of forced Russification, were, objectively speaking, two. The phenomenon developed in the European part of the USSR. This did not happen in the Caucasus and Central Asia; Dagestan, due to its multinationality, is a separate conversation, which will be discussed later.
Did this happen in the barracks?
The reasons are rapid urbanization and the presence of a huge number of garrisons on the western border of the USSR after the Hungarian uprising. Naturally, the indigenous population did not assimilate the language of Pushkin and Lermontov, but the vocabulary of their comrade warrant officers.
Isn’t this where these linguistic chimeras come from, which cause laughter among some and, as it recently turned out, hatred among others? And after all, the topic was developed in popular culture a long time ago, long before the unfortunate Zavorotnyuk.
The first were the Belarusians, where for a long time, apparently due to the strengthening of the Polish border, Russification had reached its limit. This is understandable: why, for example, Romanian and Portuguese turned out to be so similar: soldier’s Latin.
This kind of “Latin” began to be actively exploited back in the mid-eighties by a Belarusian punk band with the symptomatic name “Zasrali barracks”. Their repertoire included various themes, from banal army hazing to Satanism and perverted sex.
However, the group did not gain much fame even in their homeland; the success was only temporary. Their next followers from Minsk, “YYY”, gained much greater fame. And that’s mainly because their leader Vasya Shugaley was the director of a number of Bravo videos.
But the Ukrainian followers became much more famous. Les Podervyansky - Podya or Podi, in Ukraine, probably even children in sandboxes know. And not at all because of criticism of Zelensky, especially since he criticized Yushchenko and Yanukovych much more clearly, saying that “in the elections we chose between the bad and the unbearable.”
And more because of his literary creativity. Outside of Ukraine, Podervyansky became more famous as a talented artist; his painting “In Memory of Jim Morrison,” where Morrison is depicted on fire, hangs in Woody Allen’s own home.
And surzhik, mixed with choice swearing, varies greatly in Les’s work. Somewhere this is close to literary Ukrainian, although with vigorous swearing, but more reminiscent of half-educated Russian. Particularly impressive is Podervyansky’s position on “language”, expressed in “Katsapy”.
Katsaps, patsaks - what difference does it make in the end?
It’s Misha the boxer and Grisha the wrestler, of course, “katsaps,” discussing the Baltics with the words: “But no one speaks our language.” What language no one speaks, neither of them specified. But it is clear that we were talking about Russian.
This happened to “our nanny”
Podi’s work, even with such sedition, did not receive criticism in Ukraine, but Zavorotnyuk, by the way, is a Western Ukrainian surname, somehow found itself under fire. Well, they also became famous in Moldova.
Around the beginning of the 2000s, the group “Graeshte Moldoveneste” appeared and almost simultaneously the “drug trilogy” of Sandu Vakulovschi was released. Let's start with the second one, since one of the books in the trilogy has at least received international recognition.
At least in Romania, apparently, this is a conjuncture, since such a “language” is not understood there. The book bears the title “P….ts”, corresponding to the descendants of the ancient Romans in laconic terms. The main characters are two hucksters involved in drug trafficking from the other side of the Prut.
The main part is written in literary Romanian, but the direct speech of the characters consists of a mishmash of the Moldovan dialect, criminal Russian slang and the finest mixed Russian-Romanian swearing with slang names for drugs.
In the work of Graeste Moldoveneste there was no swearing, with rare “bleeped” exceptions. Although their tapes contained a warning about the presence of obscene language. The reason is a huge amount of Russian criminal jargon. Which, in general, corresponded to the theme of the songs.
But the group fell apart after one of the founders, Anatol Cebotari, won an American green card in the lottery and safely left Moldova.
Regarding the early work of “Planet Moldova” there is a completely separate conversation. Mitos Miklusanu, originally from the Crimean Bakhchisarai, and Adrian Nastase initially used the grotesque “Moldavian” language, but, apparently, then the state learned and stopped.
But their early work deserves attention. This is definitely grotesque. Not even Graeshte Moldoveneste has come to this. This amount of Russian swearing is still not used in everyday life in Moldova, although Russian criminal jargon is used with might and main. Just look at the play “Anigdoati”, in which every “anecdote” ended in a coma in intensive care. Agree, from the point of view of a normal person this is not funny.
In the migrant's language
And finally – the work of Alisa Ganieva, an Avarka by nationality. The book “Salaam to you, Dalgat” raised a lot of linguistic questions, like: “Do they really talk like that?” Yes, unfortunately, that’s how they talk.
Sometimes - in their own languages, more often - in the wildest mixture of Russian with Muslim words of Arabic or Persian origin: “Sabur, boys”, “I’ll give you mercy right now, haivan”, “Saol, lads”, “Atashka from Albirukent”.
This refers to the Kumyks, among whom the name Atai is common. Among all this linguistic splendor, there are also phrases in pure Russian, but very specific: “You come alone, we will be alone too,” “I threw it on the return line,” “Why, there’s no such thing as swinging?” “What, saol doesn’t happen?”, “But it happens.” And, of course, the signature: “Is there anything”?
In general, the late Zavorotnyuk did not go too far with her surzhik and did not outdo many others. But Potap - yes. At least he apologized.
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