Arkadii Abramov
Notebook No. 2
Sunday, March 13, 1960. Today I went to the post office, where I received a letter from Tik in Czechoslovakia. I sent two letters to Bulgaria, to Luka and Lidiya. I stopped by the bookstore and bought four books [from this point forward the author refers to books as “knizhonki” — tr. note]: Be Leninists, Chinese Proverbs and Sayings, “Comrade” — A Pioneer’s Notebook, Blue Eyes, along with two posters and Sasha Sannikov’s Diary. As of today, I am officially on vacation. I also began writing a diary of my memories, which I plan to submit to an oblast publishing house. In the evening, I went to see the film Sailor Comet.
Monday, March 14, 1960. Today at the factory I sharpened an axe. I bought two magazines — Ukraine and Krokodil no. 4 — and the newspaper Stalin’s Tribe at the kiosk. I received two letters from Czechoslovakia, one from Josef Sedlacek and one from Novitskyi. In the evening, I went to the Yakovlevka library to exchange books, then visited my mother. I returned home at half past eleven at night.
Tuesday, March 15, 1960. I spent the whole day in Yakovlevka, working at the site. Began nailing slats to the ceiling — uncomfortable work, a real nuisance. In the evening I stopped by my mother’s place. Got home at 8 p.m.
Wednesday, March 16, 1960. Once again in Yakovlevka, nailing slats to the ceiling until evening.
Thursday, March 17, 1960. This morning I sent three letters: one to Bulgaria and two to Czechoslovakia. Spent the day at the site, working on the ceiling. Stopped by my mother’s, and in the evening, when I returned home, I found a letter from Feier Anton in Czechoslovakia.
Friday, March 18, 1960. I went to the hardware factory today and got some different nails. There was a union meeting of the VOKHR No. 4 team, attended by officials from Kramatorsk. The Soyuzpechat kiosk remained closed all day. At the bookstore I bought a whole series of books: Soldier of the Revolution, On the Culture of Behavior of Soviet Youth, Green Plantings and Human Health [in Ukrainian — tr.note], Cherish the Honor of the Soviet Worker, You Were Ordered, and Reproduction of Evidence at the Scene of a Crime Investigation. Altogether they cost 2 rubles 80 kopecks. In the evening, I read the book Counterattack.
Saturday, March 19, 1960. In the afternoon I bought two magazines at the kiosk: Ogoniok no. 11 and Perets no. 5. I didn’t have time to stop by the bookstore. We received two letters from the Poltava oblast, one from Komyshnia and the other from Ostapovka.
Sunday, March 20, 1960. I stayed home today, read, and copied out excerpts from the book Counterattack. In the evening I went to the 7 p.m. showing of the film Papa, Mama, My Wife and I. Afterward, I read Vitia Korobkov, Pioneer-Partisan.
Monday, March 21, 1960. I was busy all day preparing materials for covering the ceiling. I visited my mother. I received a parcel from Zaragoza, Spain, with postcards of landmarks. I didn’t receive any money. In return, I need to send several postage stamps.
Tuesday, March 22, 1960. I worked again today, finishing the ceiling. In the evening, I received my advance payment. I stopped by the bookstore and bought several books: Public Figures, Agit-Poster, This Is the Beginning of the Happiest Era, What Lenin Taught Agitators, Oleko Dundich, Party Control, and The Militia Walk Through the City. I also picked up issue no. 2 of the magazine Behind the Wheel.
Wednesday, March 23, 1960. I went to the factory and got some 90 mm nails. At the bookstore, I bought the following books: At the Head of the Masses, Why I Broke with Baptism [in Ukrainian — tr.note], When a Person Loves, How to Prepare and Conduct a Trade Union Meeting, and A Year of Work in a New Way. At the kiosk, I purchased Krokodil no. 7 and New Albania no. 1, along with the newspapers Literary Gazette and Stalin’s Tribe. In the evening, I went to the cinema to see In the Steppe Silence.
Thursday, March 24, 1960. I went to the construction site again and finally finished the ceiling, with my brother Tolik helping me. Maria has a toothache; she had one tooth pulled. She also weaned Yurka. I visited my mother.
Friday, March 25, 1960. I spent the day in Yakovlevka, finishing work on the ceiling. Tolik helped me again, and Vovka was also at the site. From there we went to see my mother. We returned home late. I received a letter from Spain.
Saturday, March 26, 1960. I stayed at home. I bought some toothpaste at the store. I also received a notice to have my motorcycle inspected.
Sunday, March 27, 1960. I was at home during the day. At the bookstore I bought several books: Answering Workers’ Questions, Communists of Donbass in the Great Patriotic War, Special Assignment, October Days in Donbass [in Ukrainian — tr.note], Teaching Children Good Posture [in Ukrainian — tr.note], and A Word About Chekhov. In the evening, I rode my motorcycle with Masiuk, and afterwards we walked around the city.
Monday, March 28, 1960. I spent the day in Yakovlevka, working on the ceiling in the hut. At the kiosk, I bought Ogoniok no. 12 and two newspapers: Stalin’s Tribe and Literary Gazette. I also picked up another paper, Week, a supplement of Workers’ Deputies News. I received two letters from Bulgaria and one from Czechoslovakia. In the evening, I read the newspapers and listened to the radio.
Tuesday, March 29, 1960. Again, I was in Yakovlevka, still struggling to finish the ceiling. I expect to complete it tomorrow. My vacation is ending. I also visited my mother.
Wednesday, March 30, 1960. Today I finally finished putting up the ceiling. I stopped by to see my mother. At the kiosk, I bought the Bulgarian edition of Our Motherland no. 3, where my address is printed on page 31 in the “Our Mail” section. I also bought Literary Gazette.
Thursday, March 31, 1960. I stayed at home today. I wrote a response to the article “What Should I Do?” in Ogoniok magazine and sent it to the editor. At a newsstand, I bought issue no. 5 of the magazine Ukraine. I also received a letter from the GDR with two photographs from Karit (illegible[1]).
Friday, April 1, 1960. Today we were in Yakovlevka, where we transplanted trees. We cleared wood in the hut. We also visited my mother. My grandmother is very ill and is staying with her. I received two letters: one from Tashkent and another from Bulgaria, from the city of Kardzhali. My vacation ended today, and I returned to work at midnight.
Saturday, April 2, 1960. I came home from work this morning and found a notification. At the post office, I picked up a parcel containing the Bulgarian magazine Film News and a Bulgarian coin worth 2 leva and 14 stotinki. At the bookstore, I bought two books: Memories of Lenin by C. Zetkin and The History of the Factory by T. Yermolaev. Mikhail Lenev gave me two watches—or rather, sold them to me for 30 rubles. Tolik came over, and I repaired my bicycle, fixing the brakes. Then we went to Yakovlevka, to the site, where we planted four gooseberry bushes and a rose bush. After that, we visited my godfather, Anton Merkulovich, and shared half a liter of moonshine. He gave me 20 grapevine cuttings for planting on my plot and explained how to plant, care for, and grow them. He promised to help me with the planting. We returned home at 9:45 p.m. I need to get some sleep, as I have to be at work first thing tomorrow. There’s a good concert on the radio tonight, but I don’t have time to listen. Aunt N. came from the village to the market.
Sunday, April 3, 1960. Today I worked the morning shift. I had to stand on the railway bridge and at the Gavrilovskaya and Donetsk factory gates. My shift ended at 8 p.m., and I got home by 9. Tomorrow is my birthday—I will be 32. I don’t know what kind of gift my wife and son have prepared; I’ll find out in the morning.
I got a gift on Monday, April 4, 1960. Today I turned 32. They baked a cake. My wife gave me the book Ten Days That Shook the World and an imported (Chinese) shirt, while my son gave me the book Besiki. I went to Yakovlevka, to the plot, where I planted grapes. At the kiosk, I bought Ogoniok magazine no. 13 and Krokodil no. 8, as well as the newspapers Komsomol Truth and Week. We stopped by my mother’s place. I received two letters from Bulgaria, one from Panagyurishte and the other from Sliven. In the evening, I went to work.
Tuesday, April 5, 1960. I came home from work in the morning and slept a little. Then I went to pick up my paycheck. At the bookstore, I bought the books Drunkenness Ruins a Man, Forty-One [in Ukrainian — tr.note], The Prosecutor’s Everyday Life, Not Together [in Ukrainian — tr.note], and I Plead Guilty. Martynov borrowed 16 books from me — 15 from the Perets and Krokodil libraries and one on the education of young people.
Wednesday, April 6, 1960. I was on duty this afternoon. After work, I held a union group meeting and came home late. I wrote two letters to Bulgaria and bought a 1960 calendar for my mother.
Thursday, April 7, 1960. I stayed home today. I went to the bookstore, but there were no good books. At the kiosk, too, nothing worthwhile. I sent four letters abroad: one to Zaragoza, Spain, and three to Bulgaria—one to Sliven, another to Kolovograd, and the third to Kyrydzhali. At the post office, I bought five 60-kopeck stamps featuring a turboprop aircraft. One stamp, which had come unstuck, was torn off the envelope by the wind. In the evening, I left for the night shift.
Friday, April 8, 1960. After finishing the night shift, I stayed home until half past one, then went to the factory to accompany a payer. I returned at six o’clock. In the evening, I went to the library in Yakovlevka, where I returned the books Counterattack and Viktor … Pioneer, Partisan. I borrowed Salt of the Earth by Georgi Markov. At the library, they complained that I still hadn’t returned a book F. Wrangel. I searched through my whole library but couldn’t find it. I don’t know what to do next or where else to look. I need to write down the author’s last name, first name, the title of the book, when I borrowed it, and how many books I exchanged. I also took my mother a 1960 calendar.
Wednesday, April 13, 1960. This morning we had a class, after which uniforms were issued that had been brought from Kramatorsk. I received a cap, shirt, trousers, a towel, and footwraps. At the kiosk, I bought Ukraine no. 6 and the Literary Gazette. I also received a letter from Yana in Czechoslovakia, along with two photographs. In the evening, I left for the night shift.
Thursday, April 14, 1960. In the afternoon, I went to the bookstore and bought We Were Activists and Communists of Donbass in the Great Patriotic War. Later, I went to the barber for a haircut. Today I also disassembled the engine of my motorcycle. I don’t know when I will be able to repair it, or whether I’ll ride it again at all. In the evening, I read Ukraine magazine.
Friday, April 15, 1960. I was at work today. Bobrik returned my book Hunting Grounds. Martynov promised to bring back the 16 books he had borrowed from me. I came home late in the evening and read Salt of the Earth.
Saturday, April 16, 1960. This morning I went to the bookstore. They had many new books, but I was told to come back tomorrow when they would be put on display. I went to see Biriukov, handed over the union money, and collected the union stamps. I stopped by the kiosk but found no magazines, only bought two newspapers and ten postcards. I received two letters from Bulgaria. One contained two color photographs and two postcards with roses. Tolik Abramov came from Yakovlevka and brought me a silver 50-kopeck coin. In the evening, I left for the night shift.
Sunday, April 17, 1960. Today was a bright Easter day. I went to the Donetsk factory gates to watch the technical inspection of cars and motorcycles. At the bookstore, I looked over the new arrivals and bought Without a Mask, Happiness Won in Struggle, An Unbreakable Union, The Donetsk Party Organization During the Recovery Period (1921–25), and a poster, “In Support of the Editorial Board of Perets.” I also received two letters: one from Miroslav Hain in Czechoslovakia and another from B. Stefanova in Bulgaria.
Notebook No. 3
Started: April 18, 1960
Finished: Sunday, July 24, 1960
Monday, April 18, 1960. I was on duty this afternoon and returned home late.
Wednesday, April 20, 1960. Today I attended a court session for a murder case. The defendant was sentenced to death by firing squad. At the kiosk, I bought Ogoniok no. 15, Perets no. 7, Literary Gazette, Stalin’s Tribe, and Pioneer’s Truth. In the evening, I read Salt of the Earth.
Friday, April 22, 1960. This morning I attended a solemn meeting dedicated to the 90th anniversary of V. I. Lenin’s birth, held at the fire station and chaired by G. D. Zalat. At the kiosk, I bought three magazines in German and a copy of Komsomol’s Truth. I received a letter from Sukhoi Log, which I must reply to. In the evening, I worked the night shift.
Sunday, April 24, 1960. Day off. I worked on my plot, preparing it for planting. I stopped by the fair at the Yakovlevsk market and then visited my mother.
Monday, April 25, 1960. At the Soyuzpechat kiosk, I bought Ogoniok no. 16, Ukraine no. 7, Krokodil no. 10, and the newspapers Stalin’s Tribe and Literary Gazette. I spent some time digging at the plot and visited my mother.
Tuesday, April 26, 1960. This afternoon I went to the bookstore and bought several books: Rovno Oblast, On Combat Duty, Don’t Defend, Attack, and Your Unit, Companion of the Seven-Year Plan. Later, I worked on my plot. In the evening, I went to the movies. The film was so bad that I regretted going there; had I known, I would never have gone. Such a disgrace, it isn’t worth my money.
Wednesday, April 27, 1960. I was on duty during the day. In the evening, I stayed at home reading Without a Mask, a collection of satirical articles.
Thursday, April 28, 1960. I went to the bookstore and bought We Are Soviet People, What Fifth Graders Should Read [in Ukrainian — tr.note], and Stolen Victory (a Chilean diary). I received a letter from Czechoslovakia from a speculator who sent a threatening message. In the evening, I worked the night shift.
Friday, April 29, 1960. In the morning, I came home from work and wrote a reply to the speculator in Czechoslovakia, enclosing 100 marks for the return postage. In the evening, I went to Golikov’s to watch TV.
Saturday, April 30, 1960. I was on duty this afternoon, spending the entire shift preparing for the May 1 holiday. In the evening, I returned home from work and went straight to Golikov’s to watch the film We Are from Kronstadt on television. We drank a little in honor of the upcoming holiday. I also received a letter from Gabrovo, Bulgaria, from Todorka St. Petrova, which included three postcards.
Sunday, May 1, 1960. Today is International Workers’ Day, a holiday celebrating the solidarity of workers worldwide. Vova (my son) and I attended the parade on Lenin Square. After the parade, I returned home. Viktor Golikov came over, and we had a drink to celebrate the holiday. In the evening, I went to work for a 24-hour shift.
Wednesday, May 4, 1960. After coming home from the night shift in the morning, I repaired Zalata’s bicycle, putting spokes in the front wheel. I still couldn’t buy anything at the kiosk. I planted potatoes on the plot. Later, I went to the bookstore and bought four books: Journey to Paradise and Back, Grow Yourself and Raise Others, The Miracles of Religion, and On the Workers’ Trains.
Thursday, May 5, 1960. I worked the day shift. In the evening, I went to the cinema to see the film Love Must Be Cherished. At the kiosk, I bought the magazines Ogoniok no. 17 and GDR no. 4.
Saturday, May 7, 1960. Returned from the night shift in the morning. Received a subscription to the magazine Behind the Wheel. Went to Yakovlevka to look for a flywheel and crankshaft for a K-1-B motorcycle, but didn’t find anything. In the evening, we planned to go to the movies, but postponed it until tomorrow, which will be Sunday. A very good movie, Normandy-Neman, is showing.
Sunday, May 8, 1960. Worked the first shift in the afternoon. In the evening, we went to the movies.
Monday, May 9, 1960. Today is Victory Day over Nazi Germany. I stayed at home during the day and went to work the night shift in the evening. In the afternoon, Uncle Dmitry (Dmitry Yakovlevich Kornev, grandmother’s brother) came from the village, and we went to have our picture taken (probably at a photo studio). I bought a newspaper at the kiosk. In the evening, I went to work the night shift.
Thursday, May 12, 1960. A commission from Kramatorsk visited today to test us on the material we had covered. I bought Ogoniok no. 18, Krokodil no. 11, and Literary Gazette at the kiosk. At the bookstore, I purchased the books Notebook of a Party Activist, People’s Universities of Culture, Virgin Soil, A Brief Reference Guide to the Seven-Year Plan of the USSR, What People Still Believe In, and two sets of photographs of movie stars. In the evening, I went to work the night shift.
[1] Here and below, the notes in parentheses and in bold belong to the author’s son, Yurii Abramov.
“I am a machine doomed to devour books.”
—Karl Marx
Arkadii Abramov began keeping his diary on 13 March 1960 with a rather ambitious declaration: “Today I began writing a diary-memoir, which I plan to submit to the oblast publishing house” (part of the diary has survived, ending on 4 June 1961, with an additional entry dated 18 May 1962 concerning Nikita Khrushchev’s de-Stalinisation policy.) It is difficult to say today why the author chose to begin with such a peculiar opening. His biography was not especially remarkable. Perhaps the young trade union activist of the militarised security team VOKHR No. 4 in the city of Druzhkivka (then Stalino Oblast of the Ukrainian SSR) hoped to advance along the party line. After all, little more than a year after the first entry—on 7 April 1961, just three days after his thirty-third birthday—Abramov recorded that he had applied to join the CPSU. At the same time, writing a diary with the aim of publication may have been part of the broader practice of “making a Soviet self,” in which individuals shaped the narration of their biographies to align themselves with Soviet society. Alternatively, his intent to publish could reflect a turn toward openness and “sincerity,” together with a reassessment of subjectivity and the rising popularity of empirical literary genres, characteristic of the Khrushchev thaw. Moreover, the reader’s diary was promoted as one of the defining attributes of a “cultural” Soviet person, beginning already in school years.
Since this diary-memoir was conceived from the outset as material for future publication — as a kind of “proper Soviet biography” — we may regard its entries as evidence of a certain notion of “respectability.”
The large number of books mentioned, along with Arkadii Abramov’s reading list — consisting mainly of ideological and propaganda works, historical and patriotic texts, reference, legal, and educational literature — confirms the validity of this definition. There are almost no references to significant works of classical fiction. The only exceptions are the mention of a story by Anton Chekhov and of Georgi Markov’s Salt of the Earth [from this point forward, all titles have been translated for the convenience of the reader — tr.note]. Everything else belongs primarily to the realm of popular fiction, which, judging by his notes, Abramov clearly preferred. Notably absent from the diary are the “thick journals” — a hallmark of the Khrushchev thaw era, in which groundbreaking works of fiction and memoirs critical of Stalinism and of the methods of socialist realism were published. This diary, by contrast, reflects the mainstream of Soviet literature.
Almost every page of the diary contains notes on the purchase of books and magazines. In the small industrial town of Druzhkivka, where Abramov lived, there was a Knyhokulttorg bookshop and a magazine-and-book kiosk (a second one opened while he was keeping the diary). There it was also possible to buy foreign periodicals — including German, Bulgarian, and Hungarian — which Abramov did. Books in Ukrainian made up only a small fraction of his purchases (and, clearly, of the shop’s overall stock). One notable exception was the consistently popular Ukrainian-language satirical magazine Perets. After each visit to the shop or kiosks, Abramov carefully recorded the titles of the books, newspapers, and magazines he had managed to “get” there.
The concept of “getting” requires explanation in the context of the planned economy and its pervasive shortages. In this system, the term referred to the practice of acquiring goods that were in high demand and thus unavailable through legal sale. Since the planned economy was not consumer-oriented, many sought-after items could not be purchased directly. As a result, people developed numerous strategies to obtain what they needed: copying or rewriting by hand, borrowing from acquaintances or distant libraries, travelling to other cities with better-stocked collections, or engaging in exchanges and purchases on the “grey market” from fartsovshchiki or others with privileged access to scarce goods. In such practices, money often played a secondary role to personal connections, blat (informal networks), useful acquaintances, and mutually beneficial services. Popular magazines such as Ogoniok or Perets sold out quickly, so one needed established ties with shop assistants who would set aside an issue for a friend. During the Khrushchev era, this situation extended to almost all consumer goods: building materials, electrical appliances, spare parts, and more. Abramov’s own records vividly illustrate this reality: he struggled for months to repair his motorcycle, acquired window and door frames through acquaintances in the model workshop of a machine-building plant, and had to rely on connections even to obtain ordinary nails for constructing his mother’s house.
As an avid book lover, Arkadii Abramov often received books from his relatives as birthday gifts. For instance, on 4 April 1960, alongside a cake and a Chinese shirt, his wife presented him with Ten Days That Shook the World, while his son gave him Besiki. The following year, Abramov treated himself by purchasing two volumes as a birthday gift: Orthodoxy as a Variety of Christianity and How Criminal Cases Are Investigated and Tried.
Another noteworthy entry is dated 25 May 1960. On that day, the diarist recorded the purchase of seven “knizhonok” [roughly meaning “a small book” — tr. note] and two newspapers. His acquisitions included The Reactionary Nature of Baptism, Man at the Wheel, When a Comrade Is Judged, Right Wingers, Trade Unions Restructure Their Work, Ivan the Hero, and Flight to Freedom. At the kiosk, he also bought the newspapers Stalin’s Tribe and Literary Gazette.
The author never comments on the content of these publications, recording only their titles. In total, between 13 March 1960 and 4 June 1961, this book lover purchased 132 books and 77 periodicals.
But Arkadii Abramov not only consumed literature — he also shared it with his friends. For example, on 5 May 1960, after listing his latest acquisitions, he noted that “Martynov took 16 knizhinok from me, 15 from the Perets and Krokodil libraries and one on the education of young people.” The diary mentions communication and exchanges through books alongside other exchange practices, including international ones such as correspondence and philately. Arkady had several pen pals in Bulgaria, Czechoslovakia, and Spain, with whom he corresponded quite actively.
It appears that the only publication the author actually subscribed to was the car magazine Behind the Wheel.
He frequently borrowed patriotic books from the city library. One entry records: “In the evening, I went to Yakovlevka to the library [then the central city library — ed. note], returned the books Counterattack and Vitia Korobkov, Pioneer-Partisan. I took the book Salt of the Earth by Georgi Markov. The library complained that I had not returned F. Wrangel.”
Another interesting aspect is revealed by the legal literature recorded in Abramov’s diary, even though he had no formal legal education and, at first glance, would not have been expected to engage with the world of justice. Legal matters, however, clearly held particular interest for him as a trade union activist involved in labor disputes and court cases concerning dismissals. It is also likely that the security company where he worked was occasionally called upon to provide court escorts. On 20 April 1960, he attended the trial of a murderer who was sentenced to death (it is unclear whether this was an open trial or whether he was acting as a security guard). Based on the titles of some books, such as When a Comrade Is Judged, it can be inferred that Abramov was at least interested in — and possibly participated in — so-called comrades’ courts, a distinctive feature of the Khrushchev era. These courts aimed to delegate part of the state’s supervisory and control work to citizens themselves, channeling grassroots activism in ways beneficial to the state — for example, combating drunkenness, hooliganism, domestic violence, and workplace violations, which were the typical focus of comrades’ courts.
Sometimes, while reading, Abramov would take notes. He also occasionally wrote articles for the city newspaper Druzhkovskyi Worker and the magazine Ogoniok, of which he was a regular reader, as well as letters to central newspapers such as Labour [Trud] and the factory wall newspaper. Unfortunately, the diary does not preserve the texts of these articles. There is only a mention of one feuilleton entitled Strong Character, which, according to Abramov, was published in the newspaper and for which he received 40 kopecks by mail, as well as a “note about a slacker,” which he also submitted to the newspaper.
These entries provide insight not only into Abramov’s reading interests, but also into the range of books and newspapers available at bookshops and newsstands at the time, as well as the characteristics of how literature circulated among readers. Thanks to his diary, we can learn about the everyday life of “respectable” Soviet book lovers.
The diary was handwritten in school notebooks and preserved within the family. In the 2010s, the text was typed from the manuscript by the author’s son, Yurii Abramov. After Russia’s large-scale invasion in 2022, Yurii Abramov left Druzhkivka, leaving the original manuscripts in the family home; their current whereabouts are unknown.