I was born at Kislovodsk on 11th December,
1918. My father had studied philological subjects at Moscow
University, but did not complete his studies, as he enlisted as a
volunteer when war broke out in 1914. He became an artillery
officer on the German front, fought throughout the war and died
in the summer of 1918, six months before I was born. I was
brought up by my mother, who worked as a shorthand-typist, in the
town of Rostov on the Don, where I spent the whole of my
childhood and youth, leaving the grammar school there in 1936.
Even as a child, without any prompting from others, I wanted to
be a writer and, indeed, I turned out a good deal of the usual
juvenilia. In the 1930s, I tried to get my writings published but
I could not find anyone willing to accept my manuscripts. I
wanted to acquire a literary education, but in Rostov such an
education that would suit my wishes was not to be obtained. To
move to Moscow was not possible, partly because my mother was
alone and in poor health, and partly because of our modest
circumstances. I therefore began to study at the Department of
Mathematics at Rostov University, where it proved that I had
considerable aptitude for mathematics. But although I found it
easy to learn this subject, I did not feel that I wished to
devote my whole life to it. Nevertheless, it was to play a
beneficial role in my destiny later on, and on at least two
occasions, it rescued me from death. For I would probably not
have survived the eight years in camps if I had not, as a
mathematician, been transferred to a so-called sharashia,
where I spent four years; and later, during my exile, I was
allowed to teach mathematics and physics, which helped to ease my
existence and made it possible for me to write. If I had had a
literary education it is quite likely that I should not have
survived these ordeals but would instead have been subjected to
even greater pressures. Later on, it is true, I began to get some
literary education as well; this was from 1939 to 1941, during
which time, along with university studies in physics and
mathematics, I also studied by correspondence at the Institute of
History, Philosophy and Literature in Moscow.
In 1941, a few days before the outbreak of the war, I graduated
from the Department of Physics and Mathematics at Rostov
University. At the beginning of the war, owing to weak health, I
was detailed to serve as a driver of horsedrawn vehicles during
the winter of 1941-1942. Later, because of my mathematical
knowledge, I was transferred to an artillery school, from which,
after a crash course, I passed out in November 1942. Immediately
after this I was put in command of an artillery-position-finding
company, and in this capacity, served, without a break, right in
the front line until I was arrested in February 1945. This
happened in East Prussia, a region which is linked with my
destiny in a remarkable way. As early as 1937, as a first-year
student, I chose to write a descriptive essay on "The Samsonov
Disaster" of 1914 in East Prussia and studied material on this;
and in 1945 I myself went to this area (at the time of writing,
autumn 1970, the book August 1914 has just been
completed).
I was arrested on the grounds of what the censorship had found
during the years 1944-45 in my correspondence with a school
friend, mainly because of certain disrespectful remarks about
Stalin, although we referred to him in disguised terms. As a
further basis for the "charge", there were used the drafts of
stories and reflections which had been found in my map case.
These, however, were not sufficient for a "prosecution", and in
July 1945 I was "sentenced" in my absence, in accordance with a
procedure then frequently applied, after a resolution by the OSO
(the Special Committee of the NKVD), to eight years in a
detention camp (at that time this was considered a mild
sentence).
I served the first part of my sentence in several correctional
work camps of mixed types (this kind of camp is described in the
play, The Tenderfoot and the Tramp). In 1946, as a
mathematician, I was transferred to the group of scientific
research institutes of the MVD-MOB (Ministry of Internal Affairs,
Ministry of State Security). I spent the middle period of my
sentence in such "SPECIAL PRISONS" (The First
Circle). In 1950 I was sent to the newly established "Special
Camps" which were intended only for political prisoners. In such
a camp in the town of Ekibastuz in Kazakhstan (One Day in the
Life of Ivan Denisovich), I worked as a miner, a bricklayer,
and a foundryman. There I contracted a tumour which was operated
on, but the condition was not cured (its character was not
established until later on).
One month after I had served the full term of my eight-year
sentence, there came, without any new judgement and even without
a "resolution from the OSO", an administrative decision to the
effect that I was not to be released but EXILED FOR LIFE to
Kok-Terek (southern Kazakhstan). This measure was not directed
specially against me, but was a very usual procedure at that
time. I served this exile from March 1953 (on March 5th, when
Stalin's death was made public, I was allowed for the first time
to go out without an escort) until June 1956. Here my cancer had
developed rapidly, and at the end of 1953, I was very near death.
I was unable to eat, I could not sleep and was severely affected
by the poisons from the tumour. However, I was able to go to a
cancer clinic at Tashkent, where, during 1954, I was cured
(The Cancer Ward, Right Hand). During all the years of
exile, I taught mathematics and physics in a primary school and
during my hard and lonely existence I wrote prose in secret (in
the camp I could only write down poetry from memory). I managed,
however, to keep what I had written, and to take it with me to
the European part of the country, where, in the same way, I
continued, as far as the outer world was concerned, to occupy
myself with teaching and, in secret, to devote myself to writing,
at first in the Vladimir district (Matryona's Farm) and
afterwards in Ryazan.
During all the years until 1961, not only was I convinced that I
should never see a single line of mine in print in my lifetime,
but, also, I scarcely dared allow any of my close acquaintances
to read anything I had written because I feared that this would
become known. Finally, at the age of 42, this secret authorship
began to wear me down. The most difficult thing of all to bear
was that I could not get my works judged by people with literary
training. In 1961, after the 22nd Congress of the U.S.S.R.
Communist Party and Tvardovsky's speech at this, I decided to
emerge and to offer One Day in the Life of Ivan
Denisovich.
Such an emergence seemed, then, to me, and not without reason, to
be very risky because it might lead to the loss of my
manuscripts, and to my own destruction. But, on that occasion,
things turned out successfully, and after protracted efforts,
A.T. Tvardovsky was able to print my novel one year later. The
printing of my work was, however, stopped almost immediately and
the authorities stopped both my plays and (in 1964) the novel,
The First Circle, which, in 1965, was seized together with
my papers from the past years. During these months it seemed to
me that I had committed an unpardonable mistake by revealing my
work prematurely and that because of this I should not be able to
carry it to a conclusion.
It is almost always impossible to evaluate at the time events
which you have already experienced, and to understand their
meaning with the guidance of their effects. All the more
unpredictable and surprising to us will be the course of future
events.
From Nobel Lectures, Literature 1968-1980, Editor-in-Charge Tore Frängsmyr, Editor Sture Allén, World Scientific Publishing Co., Singapore, 1993
This autobiography/biography was written at the time of the award and first published in the book series Les Prix Nobel. It was later edited and republished in Nobel Lectures. To cite this document, always state the source as shown above.
Alexandr Solzhenitsyn died on 3 August, 2008.
Copyright © The Nobel Foundation 1970
Alexandr Solzhenitsyn
