Biography
Born on March 19, 1939, at the Agryz station, "between Tatarstan and Udmurtia."
He graduated from the history and philology faculty of Lobachevsky University and worked as a teacher in the Altai region together with friends. Returning to Nizhny Novgorod, he worked in television, at Leninskaya Smena and Gorkovskiy Rabochiy, and as an editor at the Volgo-Vyatka Book Publishing House. He later headed the Nizhny Novgorod writers' organization. He served as editor-in-chief of the literary journals Nizhny Novgorod and Kirillitsa.
His wife, Tamara Aleksandrovna, is a teacher working at the Nizhny Novgorod Art School. His daughter Lada, an art historian, lives in Saint Petersburg.
Public Activities
Chairman of the Nizhny Novgorod Regional Organization of the Union of Writers of Russia, Honored Worker of Culture of the Russian Federation, writer and poet.
Member of the pardons commission for Nizhny Novgorod Region, deputy chairman of the Nizhny Novgorod branch of the Russian Historical Society.
Author of numerous works and historical novels on the history of Nizhny Novgorod and Russia.
Secretary of the board of the Union of Writers of Russia, member of the editorial board of Roman-Zhurnal.
Two-time laureate of the Nizhny Novgorod Prize, laureate of numerous literary awards: the Russian literary prize named after N. M. Karamzin, the prize of the International Association of Battle and Maritime Writers named after V. S. Pikul, and laureate of the Grand Literary Prize of Russia.
Awarded medals commemorating the "200th anniversary of Admiral Nakhimov" and named after Academician B. A. Rybakov.
The title of "Honorary Citizen of the City of Nizhny Novgorod" was conferred by resolution of the City Duma of Nizhny Novgorod on June 21, 2006, No. 48.
The Nature of His Work
Valeriy Anatolevich Shamshurin began as a poet, then turned to prose and worked extensively in the genre of the historical novel. Not long ago, two of his novels about Russian emperors were published in Nizhny Novgorod — "The Mysterious Elder" about Alexander I and "The Seventh Seal" about Nicholas I. And now a new book has appeared from a Moscow publishing house — a historical novel about Kuzma Minin.
Words from the Experts
Shamshurin on Graphomaniacs
— Valeriy Anatolevich, do you remain loyal to the old tools of the trade even at work? Are you not friends with a computer?
— I'm used to the typewriter. A typewriter has a soul — you touch it, stroke the keys, and it obeys you like a faithful little dog. But I just can't find any rapport with a computer. We're simply different creatures!
— On the other hand, you don't have to retype things a hundred times. It's much more convenient to polish a text with a computer.
— I barely rewrite anything as it is. A mature writer who has developed his own style writes a clean draft almost from the first try, without corrections, because everything takes shape in his head beforehand. It's a different matter with graphomaniacs, of whom there are now an untold number. Just imagine — in our region alone there are thousands of poets! There aren't as many ploughmen as there are "poets." People say this is a good thing, that the more authors appear, the greater the chance of discovering bright new talents. Nothing of the sort! I spent many years running literary circles and came to the conclusion that talent emerges in a completely unpredictable, spontaneous way. It can grow out of a thistle, in a dense forest, or it can grow among roses. That is God's will.
— So you think graphomaniacs need to be firmly put in their place in time?
— Why should they? Let them do what they like. Literature is a worthy pursuit. The only thing is, they should read not just themselves but real poets. Literature is developing now; as in all difficult times, it is on the rise. If you want to write in earnest, read more of our classics: Pushkin, Lermontov, Blok, Mandelshtam. And, of course, philosophical literature. In short, the knowledge from school and even university textbooks is not enough.
— Why have there been more graphomaniacs specifically now?
— Because nowadays anyone can publish a collection of poems for a small sum — three or four thousand rubles. And then go around saying he's a writer, that he's had a book published. This ability to get into print has corrupted many people. And what do they print? A collection of clichés. "The grass grows green, the sun shines bright"… That sun has long since finished shining!
Shamshurin and Stalin
— They say you nearly came to grief because of Stalin…
— One day we schoolchildren had lined up for assembly along a long corridor, when suddenly Stalin's portrait fell off the wall. And of all things, it crashed down on my head! Shards of glass flew everywhere, the paper tore with a crack, and I found myself inside the frame as if in a collar. The school principal, Aleksandr Mikhailovich, rushed up to me, his face deathly pale. He began to stutter with fury: "D-d-do you know what's in store for you?! For your father? For a-a-all of us? You've landed us all in a monastery, cut our throats without a knife!" I felt no guilt whatsoever, but a wild, unimaginable terror passed from the principal to me. Everyone stood in complete stupor; no one dared even to cough… This happened at the end of February 1953. Soon after, Stalin died. It was nothing less than a prophetic sign.