Лучший друг бетонщика

[muckefuck]

Any of you who have expressed the slightest interest in Russian around me have heard about the Concrete Workers' Song. Back at That Other Institution, I once cataloged a Russian textbook that may well qualify as the first humourous language-learning work I'd ever seen. (I've since experienced the out-and-out silliness of Heini Gruffydd's Welcome to Welsh, among other works, but at the time this was something quite novel.) And I don't mean English as she is spoke inadvertent hilarity either but genuine deliberate funniness.

I didn't have time to read through it all, but one chapter stuck in my head: The visit to the concrete factory. You young whippersnappers with no memory of Russia before the words "glasnost" and "perestroika" were household words can't imagine what it was like to visit the USSR in the bad old days. It was impossible to see anything without going on a closely-supervised guided tour which inevitably featured such glories of the proletariat paradise as gargantuan war memorials, hydroelectric projects--or concrete factories. (Just say the word "Dagestan" within earshot of owenthomas and watch his face become a rictus of horror as his traumatic experiences come flooding back.) The happy workers at this concrete factory greet their guests with a song about the beauties of concrete; they envision a perfect world in which everything--even the birds and trees--are made out of concrete.

What didn't stick in my mind, however, was the author, publisher, or--indeed--any identifying bibliographic information whatsoever. I'd long ago resigned myself to the fact that I'd never see it again. But not only did I, I discovered it's available online! Yeah, the images are barely-legible gifs from a crappy scanner. BUT THEY'RE THERE. Major kudos to ekeme_ndiba for locating this based on nothing more than a passing mention of the Concrete Worker's Song. I don't know how to repay him except possibly by learning to sing it and sending him a youtube video of my performance.

Comments

Makhachaka-la-la-la-I'm-not-listening

[owenthomas.livejournal.com]

Oh, Makhachkala had its charms. We did get a very nice tour of the local dam and some "ethnic dancing."

[grahamwest.livejournal.com]

I can't remember the title or anything, but we used a German textbook in school (when I was 15 or so) that had a whole series of rather droll conversations in various circumstances. For example, in a restaurant, a customer to the waiter:

"Die Speisekarte, bitte."
"Fuenf Mark."
"Fuer eine Speisekarte?"
"Speisekarten bist nicht billig."

I wish I could remember more.

[zompist.livejournal.com]

Neat! I'm amazed that I can still read elementary Russian.

Have you seen Latin pro populo? More of a comedy routine than a textbook. I can still tell one of the shaggy dog stories in Latin.

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

I've seen a number of humourous Latin books (Henry Beard, in particular, seems to have quite a cottage industry going), but never this one. This could be the masterwork I've been looking for to teach me Latin properly!

[keyne.livejournal.com]

Oh! I *own* that book!

You want it?

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

Um, YEAH! Sure you ain't gonna use it?

[keyne.livejournal.com]

Hell, it's been sitting on my shelf for twenty years or so, and I don't look to be getting any closer to studying Russian than I was when I acquired it. :}

[snowy-owlet.livejournal.com]

*love!*

[danbearnyc.livejournal.com]

LIPSON!!!!!

The abnormal woman who crawls under tables at the Friendship restaurant stealing shoes and smoking cigars!

Blinsk! Shockworkers! Hooligans! Superman! Natasha! Boris!

Stormy applause!!!