One of the reasons people in a vicious addiction - idleness. When he had tilled the land, engaged in trade, how could he lead an idle life?
Abay Kunanbayev
About a novel of Abdi-Jamil Nurpeisov „Final Respects”
The first part of Abdi-Jamil Nurpeisov's novel "Final Respects" was published in 1983 after some difficulties, artificially created by Ruling power of that time. The inconvenient truth about the dying Aral Sea was unnecessary for the Soviet power, although the author had just started to talk about the unreasonable deeds of man, that led to an ecological disaster. He was the first who raised the alarm about the Aral tragedy. The novel in its final version was published at the end of the twentieth century, in 1999. But the comprehension of what had happened in the Aral Sea began much later. Viktor Shklovsky noted some time ago: there are about one and a half or two pages describing human happiness in the world literature. The rest is a man at the crossroad, the disturbed warren of his soul, his pre-threat spiritual order. The novel “Final Respects” tells about all these things. ""Final Respects" evokes a sense of disaster. And how can I not believe in the possibility of such an ever-increasing disaster, if in my eyes for a quarter of a century has withered and for a year in terrible agony the once-blue Aral is perishing. The Sea representing the rarest miracle of Nature, created among the sand, the Sea, on shore of which I was born and grew up in full confidence that the Sea is eternal, like the sky, like clouds floating above us. A man put himself in the place of God, he easily cuts down forests, drains swamps and, having drained, for example, a lake, creates a man-made miracle elsewhere. Our ancestors used to say: "Be afraid of those who are not afraid of God." It can be said that "Final Respects" is a book about how, by flouting the law of God, a man, getting excited, stopped noticing that at the end he is destroying himself. He destroys pillars on which his world stands and thereby he deprives himself of hope for the future. I am sure that there are some laws, commandments, which are primary for everyone. Only by explaining them for ourselves and keeping the rules inviolate, we will understand how we can organize our life on the Earth better", - said Abdu-Jamil Nurpeisov, expressing his opinion about the book. "Blood and sweat" is a Person in the face of Revolution. "Final Respects" is a Civilization in the face of Ecology. The motives of groundwork of the novel „Blood and Sweat” did not disappear from the new narrative, but dissolved into it, they found a new life here. In the second book of the novel its heroes are isolated on an ice floe drawn into the open sea. They stayed on the scarcely frozen water, lost, helpless, blown out by the fierce winds. One on one with destiny, except for drifting along with them an old wolf. Unexpected equality before the disaster, before the trial, sent down by the Will of Fate. And there is no sense any more in Academician Azim's excellent skills to spin intrigues to achieve his goals, or Bakizat's heady schemes, which she devised in order to get rid of the spouse Zhadiger who was mired in the Aral troubles and to conquer the main city of the country of that time - Almaty. There is no sense any more for Zhadiger to feel aggrieved or to be jealous of his wife. All of these lost their importance. Ambitions and their self-interest dissapeared. Only the sea, a thrilling wind blew off the frozen sea and the dreary howl of a hungry predator is all around. May be it is not yet the apocalypse, but its bad feeling. The breath of Primordial, the Universe, the dialogue, not with friends by misfortune, but with the Eternity, with unquestioned power of vicissitudes of life and frosty sun. Just the day before Academician Azim imagined himself as a Lord of the Environment. And what happened today? Confusion, fear, hope in the mercy of God. It is not just the collapse of illusions, but the moment of truth, the Day of Retribution. The second book of the novel is gaining strength as an awareness of the universal bond, universal dependence and universal fault. Segmental events close the line and become deeply interwined. Here, on a brittle and crushing ice floe a decrepit old wolf invoices Zhadiger for an once killed female wolf. On the same place the Sea itself, which was divided during a transformative experimental test into the Big and Small Aral invoices Azim. Here Bakizat having a weakness to live in a colourful metropolitan life stew in her own juice of betrayal. The plot of the second book "Final Respects" is a forced Robinsonade, wandering in ice captivity. The heroes wander not so much in the twilight, falling on ice hummocks, but in the darkness of their soul. It seemed to be an accident, or a confrontation with a impenetrable conscience, or retribution. Each of the heroes of the novel has his or her own fault. Personal guilt of each of them is individual. In effect all heroes of the novel learned a hard lesson: each of them in his or her own way is entirely to blame in consequences of their life, in what they have done or left and therefore "do not look for fault in others, or to their omissions and commissions." At the last fatal line, when a warm soul, like a bird, leaves the cooling body, one must remember the "final respects" of any human-being - thanking God for the joy and sorrow in our transient life, it is necessary to remain at least a small drop of Good in a great Memory of Mankind. The author wrote the novel "Final Respects" for almost a quarter of a century. To the question of the journalists "What about is your novel?" Abdi-Jamil Nurpeisov answered: "It would be simple to say that a novel about ecological problems. The fate of a human-being is closely connected with the fate of his homeland. Take a look at the situation, when in your eyes your Homeland is dying, the Sea is drying up, the soil is degrading, your fellow countrymen are leaving the Homeland in search of better odds and shelter, you would perish with them. We are all children of God, we are not allowed to choose times. Man is born even during the war years, born in times of environmental disasters, the collapse of all foundations. The time without pity presses and tests our mental and physical strength. I could, of course, say with absolute certainty that this novel is about Ecology. I might say as well that the novel is about Love, about the Eternal struggle between Good and Evil. But for some reason I want to say that, this novel is about me, my worries and thoughts.” In colclusion, we see that the author shares with readers in the novel with his tense thoughts on environmental issues, on the moral state of society, on responsibility before his own conscience and civic duty. He expressed all his pain and anxiety for the future of Mankind in it. The book was published in English in the USA in 2013. The translation was made by an experienced American translator Catherine Fitzpatrick. For his novel "Final Respects", Abdi-Jamil Nurpeisov was awarded M.A. Sholokhov International Award in Literature and Art in 2003.
The Nanny
Fiction by Aigul Kemelbayeva During the dissolution of the Soviet Union, a Kazakh university student in Moscow takes up work as a nanny to support herself in this excerpt from a novel by Aigul Kemelbayeva. In September of my last year at the university, political reforms transformed the whole world. I did not immediately understand the problem, sudden as it was. The seventy-year-old fortress of the Soviet Union cracked. Each of its fifteen wings collapsed, and this resulted unavoidably in economic crisis. It was becoming quite clear to me that I had never been taught to step outside my beloved literature and look at the real world. Now the real lessons were beginning. At first I was too startled to really grasp it. In a cruel trick, a money order arrived at the dormitory, my student heart rejoiced, and I rushed to the post office to cash it. In the palm of a post office employee that weighty sum evaporated into thin air. ‘‘This transfer is unauthorized,” she said. “We no longer hand out money from Kazakhstan. It will all be sent back.” Her words sounded like a court sentence. What nonsense was this? Thinking that she must be joking, I showed her the piece of paper and my passport again. How could they send back such a large amount of money that had been sent personally to me? It was ridiculous! What right did she have to deny me the money that belonged to me? But soon it was very clear that this situation had nothing to do with the post office clerk. What was to be done? Who was to blame? Terrible, rebellious queries stuck in my throat and started sucking my blood like a leech. You can’t survive in a megalopolis with no money. That blatant reality grew stronger every day. Soon after, the same cursed post office denied me 30,000 rubles sent by telegram, then 90,000 rubles transferred conventionally, and then, in the middle of November, 50,000 rubles that my mother sent, hoping her third attempt would finally work be successful. All the paperwork for those transfers was written out in my name. The proverb was proving true: Even if it rains cloth, a slave won’t get a piece big enough for an insole. Suddenly I felt like a character from Kafka. Society had adopted an anti-Utopian model, and its slogan was: no more transfers from Kazakhstan to Russia. I found out later that Kazakhstan had left the ruble zone. Kazakhstan was a foreign country now, and it was going to print its own currency, the national tenge. Maybe it had already started! Apparently the world’s bureaucrats, sitting in their offices, had decided that the student community should die of hunger. All I could do was ask God to give me patience, sabyr. For the first time I was cornered. I couldn’t look at life with the traditional Kazakh view. The technological age regulates social relations with its robotic fingers, and it does not give a damn about your naturally noble spirit. There is always a way out of any crisis, so really, there is no use despairing, getting eaten up by worry. And patience is gold, of course. Lilya from the translation department was already working as a nanny, but while she worked she hadn’t touched her thesis, and now time was pressing her hard. She could no longer do the job every day and needed a partner to take turns with her. Close to February, Lilya took me to the apartment where she worked, so I could get my first glimpse of the new era. The whole metro ride there, I felt sorry for myself, astonished by my situation, feeling like my head was suddenly locked in a halter, that there was no way I could break loose. But I also knew that if the owners of that apartment saw me as a stranger and would not hire me, then I would continue starving, destroy my health, and have that burden for the rest of my life. I was stuck: if I pulled one way, my bull would die, and if I pulled the other, my cart would break. The idea of being enslaved by strangers in the long days of winter was depressing. But, as they say, in three days a person can get used to anything, even the grave, so I had to hope for the best. When Lilya rang the doorbell, my heart was in my mouth. A pale young woman with a long bob opened the door. Her face seemed so familiar—she was a Kazakh, and her name was Jamal. But that did not make me happy to have come. Lilya had told me the woman of the house was not pretty. That meant Lilya’s understanding of beauty was wildly inaccurate. This woman was a little over thirty, with a straight nose, hazel eyes, and beautiful eyebrows. Her body was petite. But she looked tired. She was wrapped in a long blue gown with white stripes that went down to her feet, as if she were cold. Lilya must have told them she was bringing me, because she greeted us indifferently and cheerlessly, gesturing that she had a headache. Just then a little girl jumped out from behind her like a kid goat. Her eyes were shining and her carefree childhood was smiling cheerfully on her face. “Rita, turn off the TV. Haven’t you finished watching your cartoons?” said the mother to the daughter. “Go and do your English, your father will quiz you tonight.” She said a few words to Lilya about some household chores and then went back to sit at her computer in the bedroom. Lilya had already told me everything she knew about this family. Nine-year-old Rita’s father was a Russian and her mother was a Kazakh. The mother worked as an economist at a big commercial firm. She was a close friend of a Tatar acquaintance of Lilya’s, which is how Lilya originally found the job. Lilya did not know what sort of firm it was, and she didn’t care. Rita’s mixed blood does not show at all. Her eyes are green, her skin is white, and her hair is not totally blond, but sort of brownish blond. She looks more like a Balt than a Slav. It seemed safe to predict that she will be a pretty girl when she grows up. When she caught sight of me, a new nanny, she lingered around in that manner peculiar to children, and we talked a little to get acquainted. That day, it was my job to clean the room where Jamal was sitting. Even though it was not a pleasant feeling, I soaked a dustcloth in a bucket of water and started wiping up dust. Finishing quickly and escaping became the most pleasant thing I could imagine. While dusting around Jamal, I tried not to look at her, because the unhappy, annoyed mood of the young woman staring at the computer was easy to sense. But just then I was having a hard time paying attention to other things: I was obsessed with myself. I could almost hear a voice judging me. “This is what you get for your overweening desire for the pen, your punishment for listening to your passion and choosing writing,” that voice crowed. “Creativity cannot be innocent. So don’t be so surprised at being punished! You deserve it! You should not have been so vain, so ambitious!” But the haughty look of this woman, using me as slave labor here in this modern time, made me angry. “Damn you, you bourgeois fool! One day I will be a world-renowned writer!” I thought to myself. But I knew that was the whimpering puppy of powerlessness talking, and a more kingly soul would be more forgiving. “A writer needs all sorts of material from life, and this incomparable experience is yours!” some hypocritical inner voice told me, suddenly sounding as excited as if it had found seven hares underground. What can I say? I was experiencing mixed feelings—pity and sorrow for myself, joy at having found a way to make money, shame and surprise at having my leisure stolen from me. In the meantime, it seemed unspeakably odd and humiliating to be crawling around on all fours, up and down, now with a wet cloth, now with a dry cloth. In two hours we made that two-room Moscow apartment shine like a mirror. We had scrubbed every tile in the bathroom, and the clean sheets and Rita’s freshly laundered clothes were hanging on a rope over the balcony. We had ironed the laundry that was already dry. Why do people refer to such cleanliness as “German”? Is cleanliness the attribute of just a single nation? The world could really use the cleanliness of the nomads. When those chores were done, Lilya and I started taking care of lunch in the kitchen. We warmed up some borscht we found in the fridge, and Lilya, apparently right at home, put butter, bread, cheese, and jam on the table. That must have been the first time in fifteen days that I had decent food. After the meal, I remembered what my grandmother used to say: God creates every person with his own share in the world. But feeding myself in someone else’s kitchen still bothered me. When Jamal’s husband opened the door and walked in, we were drinking tea. Lilya quickly jumped up and took two of the three bags that he was holding. “Hello,” he greeted us softly. He was a friendly man about the same age as his wife. He was tall and had typically Russian features. Compared to his wife’s slimness and fragility, he was much healthier and showed no traces of tiredness. “Papa! Did you bring the movies?” shouted his daughter from the other room. “Yes, Rita. Here, come and get them.” Rita rushed in and immediately read the titles. They were Walt Disney cartoons. What else but Tom and Jerry could interest a nine-year-old girl? Then she ordered her father, who was just taking off his jacket, to turn on the video player. “You will not watch more than forty minutes,” warned her father. Lilya was still putting away the groceries he had brought home. It was obvious that he chose only the best fruit. The rich color of the oranges, the size of the green apples, big as bowls, the peels on the bananas—everything indicated deliciousness. Clearly, all the fruit was for Rita. After lunch, Jamal let us go early. Still wrapped in her fleece robe, as if all her young energy had been sapped by her computer monitor, or as if she simply never got enough sleep, her face sad and suffering, she handed 5000 rubles to each of us. “Girls, I was supposed to spend 5000 per day for a maid,” she told us wearily. “Today I’m paying 10,000 rubles. From now on, I’ll need you to come one at a time.” “Thank you,” we said. I was glad, but my voice sounded a little embarrassed. No doubt she was obeying her Kazakh nature when she accepted the extra expense that day. I won’t lie—those bluish banknotes made me feel dizzy. For months, all sources of cash, except for my student stipend, had been blocked. And I’m wasteful by nature, because there is nothing more humiliating than counting change. Right after high school, I won a literary contest and my story was published. I received a big award and decent royalties. But I wasted that money, spending it frivolously. A big portion of my award was distributed among relatives by my mother as suinshi, and the rest was spent on the feast we gave to celebrate. I spent the royalties myself, buying expensive clothes for my sister, who was about to be married. I could have saved that money and bought a small apartment on the outskirts of Almaty. But I’ve never been able to see into the future. I wondered if I should be worried about the unseemly way in which I was now earning money. It was the first time in my life that I had to take a job as an actual laborer, cleaning someone’s floor and washing their dishes. But the texture of that blue banknote seemed to have the magical power to heal the wounds in my soul, and erase all my whining and complaining before it poisoned me. Sabyr nested in my heart like a swallow. Sabyr would carry me to my goal.
About the trilogy Blood and Sweat of an outstanding Qazaq writer Abdi-Jamil Nurpeisov
And the people will howl like wolf in the time of the wolves; and they will twirl their tails like foxes, if time of foxes comes. Abdi-Jamil Nurpeisov. Final Respects Works of Abdi-Jamil Nurpeisov have a special place in the history of Qazaq and world culture. His works are very popular among readers and researchers. His book-trilogy "Blood and Sweat" is a folk epic, an encyclopedia of the life of the Qazaq people. For this work Abdi-Jamil Nurpeisov was awarded the State Prize of the USSR. The book was translated into over 50 languages, on the basis of the book a script was written and the feature film under the same title was produced. Moreover, a monument honoring the book's heroes was installed in Aktobe, a hometown of the writer and one of the main places, where actions in the trilogy take place. It is worthy of note that it is the first sculpture in Qazaqstan devoted to literary characters. In May 2013, the English version of the book was published. Its presentation took place in the USA within the framework of the largest book fair in North America "BookExpo-2013". The translation was made by Catherine Fitzpatrick and released by the American publishing house "Liberty Publishing House". Abdi-Jamil Nurpeisov says that, the reason for writing this work was a great human grief, caused by wartime losses and casualities. He saw widowed wives, orphaned children, mothers who lost their sons and daughters, devastation and misery. The writer's family also suffered: Abdi-Jamil's father and his three brothers were killed. These images have found thier reflection in the historical-revolutionary trilogy. The book consists of three volumes written at different periods of author's life ("Twilight" in 1966, "Ordeal" in 1968, "Fall" in 1970) and represents a picture of an era. Its language is very colourful and sounds lively. The work does not lose its relevance today, the pride of place is given to the question: "How much has the society changed for the better, if all qualities that made it 100 (or even more) years ago, remained the same?". Being on the periphery of the key political events of the beginning of the 20th century, the Great Steppe nevertheless became the arena of the struggle of "aftershocks" that have come here from Europe. The novel clearly traces the line of the unpreparedness of the canned medieval world to resist forces flowing down like an avalanche from the world outside. Eternal disagreements about livestock, power and way of life in the end seem to the protagonists a kind of dream that dissappears, facing global catastrophic realities. The action of the trilogy "Blood and Sweat" takes place in a Qazaq "aul" (means “village” in Qazaq language), during the First World War of 1914-18 and the Civil War of 1918-1920. Everything here, from the smell of wormwood to the speech of the characters, is filled with the local spirit, here you can see or imagine way of life and traditions of the Qazaq people. Abdi-Jamil Nurpeisov, being a native of a small fishing village near the Aral Sea, as no one else has shown the harsh life of poor fishermen in his work, who every day, going to sea, suffered not only from the "cruelty" of the Nature, but also of the local aristocracy-bais. But, despite all the adversity suffered by fishermen, the writer shows small human joys that gave them strength for survival. The daily struggle, and, particularly, the inner struggle, of some of the heroes of the novel (Yelaman, Kalen, Munke, Rai) broke out and grew into something that led to a revolution: at first these were outbursts of anger and excitement and at the end turned into an uprising. "Blood and sweat" is a gallery of psychological images, different in fate and character. Yelaman is a straight-out, open and trustful fellow with a note of carelessness. Tanirbergen personifies prudence, secrecy and self-control. Kenzekey is a symbol of patience, as it required the Law of the Great Steppes. Akbalah shows a pride and inflexibile woman. The trilogy convincingly demonstrates the terrible tragedy of people without God in their soul, clearly represents multilayeredness of the people's consciousness, its social diversity and contradictions. In the same conditions, the characters of Yelaman and his relative Dos are developed. But, if life taught Yelaman to be persistent, tempered in him the spirit of protest against injustice, so Dos drew other moral: in order to stay alive and live you must be careful, canny, stay away from everyone who does not agree with the injustice. The heroes of "Blood and Sweat" believed that the world they had suffered would once belong to them. Their grandsons and great-grandsons feel how this world freezes and falls to pieces. It is pointless to ask who will win in this doomsday: foxes or wolves? - the universe rolls back from the seventh day to the first, and the only thing that can be ascertained in this chaos: still there is a Day and still there is a Night. And what kind of twilight is it: before sunrise or before sunset, then God knows, if, of course, He does exist". As it is evident from the titles of the novels "Twilight", "Ordeal", "Fall", which are the parts of the trilogy "Blood and sweat", there is little sunny mood in them. And if it does, the characters get into the next hell. But a tune of light and hope sounds persistently in the tragedy, dispelling the darkness. In 1993, in an interview to „Literaturnaya Gazeta" (“Literary newspaper”), to the question "Would you like to edit your trilogy, to rewrite something in it?" Abdi-Jamil Nurpeisov replied: "I looked through my novel "Blood and sweat". What can I hide, I had certain internal fears and doubts. And what a great relief I felt when I realized that I had not made a mistake against my conscience and belief. However, I knew this before. After I finished the novel, real troubles began for me: nobody wanted to publish it for two years. On the one hand, criticism, on the other - the watchful eye of censorship saw in it a distortion of reality, a misrepresentation of historical facts and a few more serious imperfections that did not comply with ideology of the Ruling power of that time. They told me that the main hero did not become a true revolutionary. In thier opinion, he was laggard, hesitant, always doubted everything. Instead of going with the naked saber to struggle for a brighter future, he still thinks, tormented, rushes between the city and the aul as a rootless wanderer, finding no place for himself. Not only his own actions, even the righteous acts of the Bolsheviks, raise doubts in him. But today with a certain degree of pride I can say: "Blood and sweat" - from the beginning to its end a book about people of my country, about thier fate and drama. About a difficult and painfully unclear way of the Qazaq people...". Even the quotations from the work presented separately from the whole text carry a complete and bright thought (unfortunately, they do not present in English version of the text): "Lord, how insatiable is the Earth! Since the creation of the world, the land both with indifference consumed infants, not yet had time to become conscious of themselves, and it took in its cold embrace not squeamishing the old people. In the darkness of the ages, the Earth ingest people that are gnawing each other and fighting with each other, who are unable to live without hate and murder.“ "He knew that where money was made, there could be no place for hesitation. A person who makes money must be heartless, unfeeling, like a thick-skinned, throaty Abaisin. " "From time immemorial, the one who knows more is ahead." About the Author Abdi-Jamil Nurpeisov was born on October 22, 1924 in the Aral district of the Kyzylorda Region. In 1942 he was mobilized to the front at the age of 18. Participated in battles in the Kalmyk steppes, in Ukraine and in the Baltic States. After the war Abdi-Jamil Nurpeisov published his first autobiographical novel "Courland", dedicated to the battles on the Courland bridgehead. During the period from 1961 to 1970 his trilogy "Blood and sweat" was published. In 2000 he published his novel "Final Respects", which tells about the ecological problem of the Aral Sea, which was awarded the Sholokhov Prize in 2003. Abdi-Jamil Nurpeisov's candidacy was proposed for the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2013. Abdi-Zhamil Nurpeisov is the creator of the literary almanac "Tan" („Morning”), the founder and the first president of the Qazaq international PEN-club. About a period of his life being in the army the writer told: "I did not fight properly ... My military destiny looks like this: as tomorrow is the offensive, so I was sent from the front to study or other place on any other reason. In a word, I never fired a single shot at the Germans. And all five of my relatives - my stepbrothers, as well as my father's brothers - were killed. They managed to write farewell letters to their families and laid down their lives in the battle for Stalingrad. My father was recruited to the army on January 5, 1942 and died in a night battle near Ternopil in western Ukraine. From my family only I returned alive to my home. It seems that fate itself kept the warrior - it was destined for him to incarnate everything that he experienced at the front and in a peaceful life, in his literary works. Without no doubt the works of the writer will be inspiration for many generations.
The Code of the Word is a key to the Universal Etymological Dictionary “1001 Words”
The book of the prominent Qazaq political figure, writer, literary critic, diplomat Olzhas Suleimenov "The Code of the Word: An Introduction to the Universal Etymological Dictionary 1001 Words" was published in English. Fans of his talent, as well as people who are interested in this work can get acquainted with it on international readers' sites, such as, etc. "The Code of the Word" is considered to be a preface to the Universal Etymological Dictionary “1001 Words”. The author devoted a significant part of his life to write this work. According to the author, "The Code of the Word" is a luminous exposition of the effective etymology method, in other words, explanation of the origin of the word developed by him during the last 50 years of his life. In a small book (85 pages in total), the author shows a new method of etymology developed by him, based on the results of decoding the word genome. With the help of this method Olzhas Suleimenov examins the origin of the first words of humanity, which exist in all modern languages of the world. The author defines the purpose and the main essence of this work as follows: "The oral word has advantages over a written document, its phenomenon is underrated by science. It will never get burnt, it will never get damp. It can not be edited or rewritten to please "the Temple and the Palace". It does not get old. An ethnos can get off the historical arena, disappear. But its words are preserved in other languages. Dictionaries are the most timeless and reliable archive of true historical information. They will be available to us if we finally find a golden key to the Word. It will reveal to us the mystery of the origin of the Word and the Script, and hence of the Language. A book „The Code of the Word" gives us the coveted golden key. Awareness of the interdependence of the Word and the Sign is that coveted golden key to the mystery. "The Code of the Word" of Olzhas Suleimenov is not only an introduction, but also a detailed instruction on a creation and use of a new etymological dictionary. The author of this foreword examines not a certain language, but signs that are the primary sources of all cultures and scripts of the Ancient World. In order to identify the relationship of the languages of different nations, it is not enough to use methods of phonetic correspondences, which linguists have been using for the last two centuries. According to Olzhas Suleimenov, this method can not help the researcher to tear the vitals out of a subject, but only covers the uppermost layers of the word's history. The author of the book in turn acquaints us with the theory, where the origin of the word is interrelated and dependent on the figurative written sign (the first character), due to which it is possible to learn the genesis of any ancient consonance. The book is divided into small 47 chapters, which are logically and sequentially connected with each other. It is easy to establish the relationship between "The Code of the Word" and the other well-known book of Olzhas Suleimenov "Az and Ya", in the second part of which, called "Sumer-name", the poet-researcher gives 60 Turkisms that were discovered in the Sumerian "clay books". In several chapters of "The Code of the Word", such as "Back in Sumer?", "The Sumerian arrow is still in flight (about the Great and Humiliated)", "The Man with an arrow who is in Sumer", Olzhas Suleimenov continues the search for Turkic correspondences in modern languages of the world. At the forefront of his scientific research Olzhas Suleimenov puts a sign-symbol. If we return to the history of the origin and formation of mankind, we note that for all ancient peoples it was one. It is well known that representatives of the Ancient Civilization worshiped Nature. Also, such private concepts as "Moon worship", "Sun worship", worship of the sacred animal to the ox, lion, bull, elephant existed at Ancient times. Rock paintings with animal images, in particular the "animal gallery" of the Tamgaly tract in Qazaqstan proves this fact. The author of "The Code of the Word", taking as a basis these written sources, describes them in detail not only on the onomatopoeic stage, but also on the sign imitating language stage. "The initial stage of language development was, undoubtedly, onomatopoeic. During this long period, a man who differed from other brothers in the nature with his artistic gift - the ability to imitate and transform himself, mastering the self-names of "talking" animals, developed his speech apparatus, which initially could be supposed to reproduce only the limited sounding with which he came to this world. But here, learning the self-names of other species, our ancestors learned how to roar, hiss, quack, moo, meow ... that is, when calling other animals, a man created his first words. " - argues the author of the book. Designed by Olzhas Suleimenov and being in active use the mechanism of word production, at first glance is simple, but at the same time it is consistently deepening into the semantics of the word, hermeneutics and requiring from the researcher a new, not traditional attitude to the Word: Sign + name of the sign + interpretation of the sign = word - concept. "The Code of the Word" is a result of research, which includes a moral, aesthetic, humanistic meaning. The book has a great social and political significance, it acquaints readers with the origin and history of the languages of all people, existing in this world. So far as the book "The Code of the Word" is a preface to the Universal Etymological Dictionary „1001 Words”, it is freely available on the official website:, which works in Qazaq, Russian, English, French languages. The main goal of the organizers of the web-site and Olzhas Suleimenov is to inform people, particularly the students about this idea, to acquaint them with the origin of the first words of humanity. The feedback is also not forgotten: readers can share their experience in solving problems in the field of etymology in favor of human history. About the Author The creative activity of Olzhas Suleimenov has attracted attention of not only linguists, but also literary critics for several decades. His creative motto is "To Raise the Steppe, Not Lowering the Mountains Pride". Olzhas Suleimenov was born on May 18, 1936 in Almaty. He graduated from the school in 1954 and entered the Geological Exploration Faculty of the Qazaq State University. In 1959 he graduated from the University. Olzhas Suleimenov published his first book of poems "Argamaki" in 1961. The same year he published his other poem "Land, bow to a man!", which was included to the best works of Soviet poetry and made Olzhas Suleimenov very popular in Soviet Union countries. The writer worked hard during the next years. A poetic collection "Sunny Nights" appeared in 1962. Later on were published "Parisian Night", "Good Sunrise Time", "Year of the Monkey", "Selected Lyrics", "A Clay Book","Repeating at Noon","Every Day is Morning", "A Round Star", "A Fire Transformation", "Defining the Shore", "Az and Ya","A Language of Writing". Olzhas Suleimenov is known as the author of works devoted to "The Tale of Igor's Campaign". He got interested in this topic in 1960. Being a student of the Literary Institute, he published his first works about this epic poem starting from 1962. The general line of Olzhas Suleimenov's work in this direction is identification in "The Tale of Igor's Campaign" the vast layers of Turkic vocabulary and Turkic phrases, later on sophisticated during rewriting. The result of this research work is reflected in his popular book "Az and Ya" (1975). Olzhas Suleimenov passionately took part in life of two significant creative unions of Qazaqstan - the Union of Writers and the Union of Cinematographers. Thanks to his input Qazaq cinema has become more popular around the world. The film studio "Qazaqfilm" produced such remarkable films as "Qyz-Zhibek", "Anxious morning", "A shot on the pass Qarash". On the initiative of Olzhas Suleimenov Almaty became a host of the Fifth Conference of Writers from Asian and African States. Olzhas Suleimenov played a key role in closure of the Semey polygon. He founded a movement "Nevada-Semey", which allowed to establish a moratorium on explosions at the Semipalatinsk test site. On August 28, 1991 a momentous event at last took place. The President of Qazaqstan Nursultan Nazarbayev signed a Special Decree on Closure of the Semey Polygon. By present time Olzhas Suleymenov represents Qazaqstan on a high level, being a Permanent Representative of Qazaqstan to UNESCO (Paris).
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