“Nature knows no rights, it knows only laws” (D. Adams). St. Ambrose of Milan

"Listen! - the October wind sang, swirling through the streets of New York. - Listen to what I tell you!

About risky weather and people taking risks! This skinny gentleman walking past, staggering, will he have time to pull himself together when I push him against the wall, or that one with his belly sticking out, will he be able to catch the cocked hat that I will rip off his head! With squeals, laughter and howls, I sweep away everything in my path! You will never find a horse that can catch me!”

“Can’t be found,” thought Matthew Corbett in response.

“For sure! Honor my appearances and departures, and know that the power of the invisible is such that no person can overcome it!”

Matthew was absolutely convinced of this, because he himself was struggling to keep the cocked hat on his head and not fall off under the gusts of wind.

It was almost half past nine on a Thursday evening in the second week of October. And the young man did not walk without a purpose: he was told to be at half past eight on the corner of Stone and Broad streets, and if he valued his skin, then he must be there for sure. Hudson Greathouse, his companion and senior partner at the Herrald agency, has recently been in no mood to give Matthew any concessions in understanding who is the master here and who ... well, the truth is the truth - who is the slave here.

As he continued to fight his way into the wind along Queen Street with other townspeople hitting invisible walls (those coming towards him were flying in bundles of empty bags), he thought that the current harshness of Greathouse was most likely due to his, Matthew's, fame.

Whatever one may say, Matthew is a celebrity.

“You don’t think you’re pouting a little, do you?” - Greathouse often asked after successfully solving the riddle of the Queen of Bedlam.

“Yes,” Matthew answered as calmly as possible, dealing with a bullish man who was ready to pounce on any insufficiently respectful statement. “But I’m not bursting.”

This was not enough for the bull to attack, but it was enough to make him snort in ominous anticipation of the coming retribution.

But Matthew really became a celebrity. His brilliant investigation of the Musker case and his near-death summer adventures on the Chapel estate provided the town printer, Marmaduke Grigsby, with material for a series of articles in Earwig, making the Saturday night paper more popular than dogfights on the docks. The very first article, written immediately after the July episode, was quite restrained and true to the facts, since Chief Constable Gardner Lillehorn promised to burn down the printing house if something happened. But when Berry, Marmaduke's granddaughter, clarified her role in this play, the old newspaper wolf howled almost at the moon outside the house where Matthew lived - and he lived in a former dairy right behind the house and Grigsby's printing house.

For reasons of decency and common sense Matthew kept the details to himself at first, but eventually his defenses wavered and were swept away. By the third week of September " Unknown story adventures of our Matthew Corbett! Battle with notorious scoundrels! A wonderful deliverance from a terrible death! Part One went to press, and the torches of Grigsby's enterprise—and imagination—burned into full force.

And Matthew Corbett, an ordinary young man of twenty-three, who, by the will of fate and circumstances, had risen from a street ragamuffin to a partner and “problem solver” in the New York branch of the London Herrald agency, the next day found himself surrounded by a crowd of people pushing feathers into his hands , inkwells and “Earwig”, so that he could sign the first chapter of his adventures, in which he himself hardly recognized what he had experienced. What Marmaduke did not know for sure, he confidently invented.

By the third and final chapter, published last week, Matthew had transformed himself from a simple New Yorker - the population of about 5,000 in 1702 - into a knight of justice who not only prevented the collapse of the economic basis colony, but also delivered all the city virgins from the lustful minions of the Chapel. Fleeing with Berry through the old vineyard from the chase - ten hunting hawks and fifty brutal killers? A fight with a trio of bloodthirsty Prussian swordsmen? Well, there was, perhaps, a grain of truth in this, but from this grain grew a magnificent fruit of pure fantasy.

Nevertheless, these articles turned out to be a great success for Grigsby and “Earwig” and were discussed not only in taverns, but also near wells and horse logs. It was said that Governor Lord Cornbury was once seen on Broadway, strolling in a blond wig, white gloves, and women's attire in honor of his cousin, Queen Anne, and reading the latest edition of the paper with sharply lined eyes.

At the corner of Queen and Wall Streets, a prickly dust whirlwind swirled around Matthew, bringing the smells of fish, tar, wood from the shipyard, barnyards, manure, the contents of night vases spilled from the windows of houses onto the pavement, and the sweet and sour aroma of wine from the East River in the night. If Matthew was not now in the heart of New York, then in the nose - that's for sure.

The wind blew into the lanterns hanging on the corner posts and extinguished the flames. By law every seventh house had to hang a lamp, but today no man, not even the pacing constables, not even their chief Lillehorn, with all his exaggerated glory, could command the wind to spare even one wick.

This increasing confusion, which began around five and showed no signs of abating, led Matthew into a mental philosophical discussion with his hot-tempered interlocutor. He had to hurry - even without looking at the silver watch in his vest pocket, he knew that he was several minutes late.

But soon Matthew, now driven by the wind at his back, crossed the cobblestones of Broad Street and, by the light of a wind-torn candle in the surviving lantern, saw the boss waiting for him. Their office was a little further away, on Stone Street at number seven, one flight of stairs up into the attic, where the ghosts of former tenants who killed each other for coffee beans hovered. Matthew had been hearing cracking and banging sounds for the last few weeks, but he was sure it was just the Dutch bricks complaining as they sunk into English soil.

Before Matthew had time to approach Hudson Greathouse, dressed in a woolen Monmouth hat and a long dark cloak, the wings of a raven fluttering behind his back, he strode towards him, saying as he went:

Follow me!

Matthew obeyed, nearly losing his cocked hat as he turned into the wind. Greathouse walked into the wind as if he were its master.

Where are we going? - Matthew shouted, but Greathouse either didn’t hear or simply didn’t consider it necessary to answer.

No one would mistake these two “problem solvers” for brothers, although they were related general work. Matthew was tall and thin, but he had the resilience of a river reed. Narrow face with long chin, under the cocked hat there is a shock of black thin hair. The face - pale in the light of the lantern - testified to an interest in books and in nightly games of chess in the favorite tavern, Trot to Gallop. Thanks to his current fame, which he himself considered deserved - he really almost died defending justice - Matthew, as befits a New York gentleman, began to show an interest in clothing. In a new black frock coat and a waistcoat with thin gray stripes (one of two outfits made for him by Benjamin Owells), he was Jack O'Dandy from head to toe. The new black boots, delivered on Monday, sparkled with sunshine. He had sent an order for a thorn cane, such as was worn by many of the famous gentlemen in the city, but since the item had yet to be delivered from London, Matthew would not be able to enjoy it until the spring. He was washed to a shine, shaved until his skin was pink. Cold gray eyes with a barely noticeable blue of twilight were clear and calm that evening. His direct gaze, as many would say (and indeed Grigsby did say, in the second chapter), "would make the scoundrel lay aside the burden of evil - unless it turns out to be the burden of prison chains."

Robert McCammon(correct full name— Robert Rick McCammon, “the evil genius from Alabama,” one of the most authoritative authors of the popular genre of mystery and horror.

Already with his first book, “Baal” (1978), he attracted attention, became one of the best-selling authors, but became truly famous after the novel “They Thirst” (1981). “Baal” sold 300,000 copies, which by American standards is very good for a first-time author. The second novel written was "Night Ship", but the second one was published, "The Sin of Immortality" ("Night Ship" was accepted for publication by Avon, but the publisher heard that a film about the Nazis was being made with a roughly similar plot and postponed the publication of this novel, and McCammon, who had already signed a contract with the publisher, urgently wrote another novel). After They Thirst, McCammon began to be considered a “name” author—that is, an author whose books were destined to sell well.

The next novel, “The Mysterious Path,” the most “pop,” the most moralizing of all his works, helped the author gain recognition among the most conservative literary circles; its cover was featured on the publishing house's catalogs and it was included in the list of books recommended for reading by the Literary Guild Book Club.

The Usher's Lot, a gothic novel with elements of horror, was initially rejected by the publisher and "laid on the shelf" for more than a year. (This novel is undoubtedly better than all his previous ones - such is often the fate of really good books.) Then it was published, in fact, only for the reasons that McCammon, a well-selling author, had not had a new book for several years.

After the release of Swan's Song, McCammon became the most popular horror author for a time. This novel spent 4 weeks on the New York Times bestseller list, and the first edition sold almost a million copies (and there have been four in total to date). And the next novel, “Bite,” also sold about a million units during its first publication. The novel “The Hour of the Wolf” had similar success.

The novel "A Boy's Life", autobiographical fantasy, except commercial success also received literary prizes.

After Southbound, McCammon took time out to be a full-time father. In 2002, McCammon returned to literature with a new novel, The Voice of the Nightbird, which the following year brought the author the Southeastern SF Achievement Award (awarded to science fiction, fantasy and horror authors born or living in the southeastern United States). In 2007, a sequel to “Voices” was published, which tells about the further adventures of Matthew Corbett, the main character of the previous novel.

List of books:
Pin
Baal
Depth
Voice of the night bird
City of doom
Sin of immortality
Makeup
A boy's life. Book 1. Dark Abyss
A boy's life. Book 2. People and Ghosts
Yellowmouth's Cage
Illachili Cage
Ship of the Night
Queen of Bedlam
Red House
Nipper
Swan song. Book 1. The Last War
Swan song. Book 2. Land of the Dead
Mr. Slaughter
My!
Ice Cream Man
On the way south (= Running south)
Mysterious path
Night plastuns
Night Calls the Green Falcon
He'll knock on your door
They Thirst (= Vampires of Los Angeles, Prince of Darkness)
Wasp summer
Svan's Song (= Swan Song, Pleasure in Death)
Ghost World
Blue World (collection)
blue world
Eat me
The fate of the Eschers (trans. Kolesnikov)
The Fate of the Eschers (trans. Rogalin)
Hour of the wolf
Black on yellow
Black boots
Chico
Something's going on
Little thing (in the book The Last Client)

Book tech. information:
Author(s) of the material: Robert McCammon
Language(s) of material: Russian
Book publisher(s): various
Genre coloring: Horror, Sci-Fi, Mysticism, Fantasy
Release date(s): 1991-2015
Book format(s): fb2, rtf
Archive size: 36.14 Mb

McCammon Robert

Song Swan

Robert McCammon

SONG SWAN

Dedicated to Sallu, whose inner face is also

beautiful, just like the outside. We survived the comet!

PART ONE. FRONTIER, AFTER PASSING

WHICH IS IMPOSSIBLE TO RETURN

1. ONCE UPON A TIME

Washington, federal district Colombia

“We once enjoyed playing with fire,” thought the President of the United States as the match he lit to light his pipe burned between his fingers.

He stared at her, fascinated by the play of the flames, and as they burned, his mind pictured a tower of flames a thousand feet high, swirling across the country he loved, burning cities and towns along the way, turning rivers into steam, scattering the ruins of a farm that had been here since time immemorial, and throwing the ashes of seventy million human bodies into the dark sky. Fascinated by this terrible picture, he looked at how the flame engulfed the match, and realized that here in miniature were both the power of creation and the power of destruction: the flame could cook food, illuminate in the dark, melt iron - and could burn human flesh. What looked like a small, unblinking pink eye opened in the center of the flames, and he wanted to scream. He woke up at two in the morning from the nightmare of such a sacrifice and began to cry and could not stop, and the First Lady tried to calm him down, but he continued to tremble and sob like a child. He sat in the Oval Office until dawn, looking over maps and top-secret reports again and again, but they all said the same thing: _P_e_r_v_y_y_U_d_a_r_...

The flame burned my fingers. He shook the match and threw it into the ashtray in front of him, decorated with a relief of the presidential seal. A thin stream of smoke swirled towards ventilation grille air purification systems.

Sir? - someone said. He looked up, looked around at the group of strangers sitting in the so-called White House Situation Room, and saw before him on a high-definition screen computer card the globe, a line of telephones and television screens arranged in a semicircle in front of him, like on the control panel of a fighter jet, and he wished that God would put someone else in his chair, so that he would again become just a senator and would not know the truth about the world.

He ran his hand over his forehead. The skin was sticky. It's a great time to get the flu, he thought and almost laughed at this absurd thought. The President does not have sick leave, he thought, because it is believed that Presidents do not get sick. He tried to focus his gaze on whoever was addressing him at the oval table: everyone was watching this man - the Vice President, nervous and shy - Admiral Narremore, straight as a ramrod, in a uniform decorated with a handful of awards on his chest; Admiral Sinclair, sharp and wary, with eyes like two pieces of blue glass in a tightly stitched face; Secretary of Defense Hannen, who looked like a good-natured grandfather, but was known both to the press service and to his assistants as “Iron Hans”; General Shivington, Officer in Charge military intelligence on questions of the military power of the Soviets; Chairman of the Chiefs of Staff Committee Bergoltz, crew-cut and trim in his dark blue pinstriped suit; and many different military officials and advisers.

Yes? - President asked Bergholtz.

Hannen reached for a glass of water, took a sip from it and said:

Sir? I asked you if I could continue,” he tapped his finger on the page of the open report that he was reading.

A! - He thought that his phone had gone out. Didn't I just smoke it? He looked at the burnt match in the ashtray and could not remember how it got there.

For a moment, he saw John Wayne's face in his mind, in a scene from an old black-and-white movie he had seen as a child. The Duke said something about a milestone, after passing which it is no longer possible to return.

Yes, - said the President, - continue.

Hannen glanced quickly at the others sitting around the table. In front of each was a copy of the report, as well as a summary of encrypted messages that had just arrived through communications channels from NORAD (North American Unified Air Defense Command) and from SAC (Strategic Air Command).

“Less than three hours ago,” Hannen continued, “the last of our operational SkyEye satellites was blinded while over Soviet territory. We lost all our optical sensors and cameras, and again, as with the six previous Sky Eyes, we sensed that this one had been destroyed by a ground-based laser, likely operating from a point near Magadan. Twenty minutes after SkyEye 7 was blinded, we used the Malmstrom laser to blind him. soviet satellite, which was at that moment over Canada. According to our data, they still have two satellites in operation, one in this moment over the North Pacific Ocean, and the other over the Iran-Iraq border. NASA is trying to restore SkyEye 2 and 3, and the rest are just space junk.

All this means, sir, is that approximately three hours ago Eastern Daylight Time,” Hannen glanced at digital clock on the gray concrete wall of the Situation Room - we lost our sight. The last photographs were received at 18:30, when the satellites were over Jelgava.

He turned on the microphone in front of him and said:

- "Heavenly Eye" 7-16, please.

There was a three-second pause while the information computer found the requested data. On the large wall screen, the map of the globe darkened and gave way to a high-altitude satellite video showing a section of the dense Soviet taiga. In the center was a bunch of pinheads connected by thin lines of roads.

Enlarge twelve times,” Hannen said, the picture momentarily reflected in his horn-rimmed glasses.

The image was magnified twelve times until, finally, hundreds of ICBM silos became so clearly visible that it was as if the picture on the wall screen of the Situation Room had become merely a view through a glass window. Trucks walked along the roads, their wheels kicking up dust, and even soldiers could be seen near the concrete bunkers of missile launchers and radar dishes.

“As you can see,” Hannen continued in a calm, almost impartial voice, familiar to him from his previous work as a teacher. military history and economics at Yale University - they are preparing for something. Probably installing more radars and equipping warheads, it seems to me. We counted 263 bunkers in this unit alone, likely containing more than six hundred warheads. Two minutes after this shooting, the “Heavenly Eye” was “blinded.” But the filming only confirms what we already know: the Soviets have approached high degree military readiness, and they don't want us to see them bringing in new equipment. This brings us to General Shivington's report. General?

Shivington broke the seal on the green folder lying in front of him; others did the same. Inside were pages of documents, graphics and maps.

Gentlemen,” he said in a solemn voice, “the Soviet military machine has increased its power by no less than fifteen percent in the last nine months. I don't need to tell you about Afghanistan, South America or the Persian Gulf, but I would like to draw your attention to the document marked take-6, take-3. It has a graph showing the amount of revenue flowing into the Russian civil defense system, and you can see with your own eyes how it has skyrocketed over the past two months. Our sources in the Soviets tell us that more than forty percent of the urban population has now either fled the cities or taken refuge in shelters...

While Shivington was talking about Soviet civil defense, the President's thoughts went back eight months, to the last terrible days of Afghanistan, with their nerve-paralytic gas attacks and tactical nuclear strikes. And a week after the fall of Afghanistan, a 20.5-kiloton nuclear device exploded in a residential building in Beirut, turning the tormented city into a lunar landscape of radioactive debris. Almost half the population was killed on the spot. Many terrorist groups happily took responsibility, promising more lightning strikes from Allah.

It’s already difficult to say anything new in the post-apocalyptic genre. About all development trends human society, who survived the end of the world, was brilliantly told by John Wyndham in The Day of the Triffids. In terms of psychologism, it is very difficult to beat Stephen King's The Stand. And nowhere have I seen the drama of the consequences of the apocalypse more realistically and deeply than in “Malville” by Robert Merle. Robert McCammon shows us post-apocalypticism as “action with a human face”: no superheroes, all the characters are deep, albeit not like King’s, but compared to most representatives of the genre - it’s like a three-dimensional image against a two-dimensional one.

In fact, "Swan's Song" and "The Confrontation" are the same story, told by different authors who tried very hard to make their book as good as possible. Accordingly, King filled it with a crowd of characters, everyday trifles and inner world heroes. McCammon didn't try to bite off more than he could chew, so there isn't as much character or psychology, but the book is a quicker read and has much more action.

So, the end of the 80s, the situation in the world is extremely tense. America threatens Russia from overseas, but is afraid to approach. “Crazy Russian Ivans” show that they are the coolest. Plus, something went wrong in the east, and now India and Pakistan simply do not exist. At some point, America gathers all its resolve and sends its submarines to the Ivans. In response, the Russians quickly organize the fastest delivery of nuclear warheads to the enemy’s camp, the United States also fires something there... In short, the Third World War began and ended with a nuclear winter. In the midst of this disgrace, the local equivalent of Satan is walking around the States and enjoying what is happening. Of course, we will be shown some bad characters who help the Devil, and some good characters who oppose him. In the end, as usual, there is a battle between good and evil.

It seems banal, but the reading is really captivating. The characters are interesting and realistic enough to sympathize with. Even the bad guys turned out to be such that they cannot be called complete scum. The situations in which the characters find themselves are quite non-trivial, which fuels interest in reading. Strictly speaking, the book has two shortcomings (except for the general predictability of the ending, but after all, we watch all sorts of “Avengers” knowing in advance that the good guys will punish the bad guys in the end, that is, for the sake of the pleasure of the process): the implausibility of the conditions of nuclear winter and the length of the narrative . You can close your eyes to the first; in the end, the characters and action make up for this minus. But with protractedness everything is different. At some point you realize that you are tired of this story, and there is still more than a third of the book left... You pause, get distracted, the immersion effect decreases, then increases, and as a result, by the end you feel some kind of blurriness and vague frustration from the lack of pleasure from the book , which was in your hands, inside these pages, but you could not manage it correctly.

I recommend it to all fans of high-quality post-apocalyptic fiction. By the way, this is not the only representative of the genre written by McCommon. There is also a story “City of Destruction”, which flirts more with mysticism and surroundings, and therefore I also recommend reading it.

Rating: 8

“Swan’s Song”... I have not yet read all the works of McCammon’s genius, but this epic novel, it seems to me, is not only the pinnacle of his work, but also one of the best science fiction novels of the twentieth century, which over time will undoubtedly become a classic of horror literature, and in general – a world classic. The level of dynamism and drama is off the charts - you experience a lot of feelings and emotions. A novel capable of bringing joy, through horror, to tears. The style is impeccable and the presentation is so strong that you don’t even need to use your imagination – the pictures appear on their own. And Robert depicted, no less, an entire country after a nuclear bombing! And those first days, after the bombs fell, were terrible and hard to read; It’s scary to “look” at the handful of survivors, burnt and maddened people who, finding themselves in the midst of complete destruction - fused metal and human bones - envied the dead. And despite the fact that almost the entire population of the country was destroyed, the “Changing Shape” - the devil dancing on thousands of corpses - wanders the devastated lands. After the explosions, the sky was covered with dust and debris, after which it became perennial winter. It would seem that everything on earth was destroyed, both flora and fauna (only the mutated animals that survived the radiation remained), and even all sources of water were contaminated. But in contrast to all this darkness and hopelessness, madmen forming new armies, and the devil himself sowing death, a girl appears as a symbol of light and goodness. A girl, from whose touch withered flowers open and trees come to life, in which, it would seem, there was no longer a drop of life pulsating.

Humanity and life on earth will never be the same as before, but people have a chance, and everyone will make their choice: to join the forces of evil - the army that destroys everything that remains; or to the good that arises around a clean source, rebuilding a small village.

A lot can be said about the complex, branched and multi-layered plot, since each of the 95 chapters left impressions. While reading the book, I experienced many exciting moments, sometimes I simply covered my mouth with my hand to hold back a cry of joy, horror or despair. Throughout its 1000 pages, the novel keeps you in suspense - and it’s like waves, lets go a little, and then covers your head. And the heroes! Lord, they are so inspired that after a week spent with the novel, it felt as if I had parted with real friends. These are not just masterfully written characters - but living loves, whose words and actions will forever remain in memory.

Also, the novel is cinematic. This is probably the first book that I read while listening to the sounds of my favorite Heavy Metal, which did not distract at all, but only complemented the atmosphere. It seems to me that if, after the publication of the novel, Dario Argento or Don Cascarelli had taken up the film adaptation, the film would have collected 25 Oscars that same year! Is it surprising why the book received only one award? Ratings don’t mean anything to me, but I would give everything for “Swan Songs” in ’87, and “Barloga” and “Locus”!

The novel touched me. Absorbed. Filled it up. Robert McCammon deserves only the highest praise. As for the translation... as far as I know, the novel was published three times by the same Kolesnikov - “The Pleasure of Death” and “Swan Song”, both editions in two volumes, and “Svan’s Song” in one volume, with abbreviations - which for this romance is unacceptable! The translation is not perfect, yes - there are flaws, but, forgive me, this is not the only edition of Wheatley's "War in the World of Ghosts" - where, without exaggeration, commas were found simply between words.

So, neither Kolesnikov’s translation, nor the condition of the book (and “Svan’s Song” I acquired the first edition - “The Pleasure of Death” - which, take note, although in a hard cover, the book is not stitched! And I received the books with cracked glue , with torn spines, and a dozen fallen pages neatly inserted into the middle. And before I started reading, I spent two evenings aligning those pages, putting them in place, and cutting them out of the cover and re-gluing both volumes, after which these recently tattered books. became much more pleasant to hold in your hands) did not spoil the impression!

I am impressed!

P.S. Sue Wanda, Sister, Robin, Rusty, Gloria, Josh... - I won't forget you!

Rating: 10

I love McCammon and have read everything I can find. I liked the novel, but somewhat less than his other works.

I read the 1993 edition. Translation - MOM IS GOOD! I was able to ignore typos and confusion with tenses and genders, but for myself I identified the main flaws in the translation:

1. IDIOTISM Examples: a. "The ball-colored car." You involuntarily diagnose yourself with color blindness, since you will not be able to distinguish such a color from a triangular or square one, not to mention shades such as a spherical one. b. “The killer jumped out of the van and started shooting randomly.” Everything seems to be in order, but Killer is the name of the dog.

2. TUHLISMS (determined by the year of translation, when the translators did not understand what they were talking about) Examples: a. “Corn Flakes Popcorn” b. Drink "Seven upside down." No one calls “Seven UP” that way, especially since Seven is not “upside down” at all.

3. “KULTUR-MULTUR IS SMALL” (or simply lack of erudition) Examples: a. "Dodge City" Precisely with quotation marks, so that the sophisticated reader does not confuse cars with Venetian aristocrats. In fact, Dodge City is a common name for a town in the Wild West, where wild customs flourish. By the way, there is also a classic Western film with the same name. Well, the city is real too. b. “Like AGAB after a white whale.” In Russian literature, the name of the character "Moby Dick" is always spelled AHAV, because... he bears a biblical name.

Rating: 9

McCammon's novel Swan's Song is a controversial book. It's hard to say whether I liked it or not. There are many mistakes, shortcomings, absurdities and inconsistencies in it, the book is translated disgustingly, but there is something in this novel that makes him read to the end, leaving a good impression.

The novel begins with a description of the eve of world nuclear war, the reader gets acquainted with the main characters. Then, the rockets take off and the world plunges into the flames of the atomic Apocalypse, followed by nuclear winter. Cities are destroyed, civilization is destroyed. And against this dull background we read about the adventures of the main characters forced to survive in this hell. As always, the heroes are divided into good and bad, the plot jumps to the description of first one, then the other.

The first third of the book is read in one breath, and then monotonous descriptions of the heroes’ travels across a desert country begin and the book begins to get boring.

Yes, McCammon is repeating the plot of King's The Stand, written ten years earlier. The struggle of the “good” guys against the “bad” guys, and something demonic, a creature in the image of the devil or some other evil spirit, which he came to completely destroy Good, along with the positive main characters. Only King has more realism in his novel, and “Swan’s Song” is fairy tale, the heroes work miracles, everything revolves around the girl Svan, who has supernatural powers and a magic ring that is also capable of working miracles.

But unlike King (by the way, “The Stand” is also not his strongest novel), McCamon’s book is full of absurdities. I just want to say, well, this doesn’t happen!

Spoiler (plot reveal)

Well, there are no such consequences of a nuclear war! Every Soviet schoolchild took lessons damaging factors nuclear explosion!

And the scene of cutting up a wolf for dinner? They took blood and guts, threw away the meat! Well, any hunter, and not only others, knows that when cutting up an animal, they throw away the entrails and take the meat!

A horse that easily kills several mutant lynxes, corn planted in frozen ground and sprouted within a day!

The presidential jet was shot down by a bus that took off from the explosion!

And this is on every page

It is clear that this is a fairy tale, but this does not make the book realistic.

To compare the novel with “The Road” by Cormac McCarthy, the plot is the same, but “The Road” is realistic, tragic, you worry about the characters, and “Swan’s Song” did not touch me. I think it's aimed at a teenage audience.

After a monotonous middle, the novel finally reaches the finish line. The paths of all groups of main characters cross in the main battle. What cannot be taken away from McCammon's skill is the dynamism of the descriptions of battles. Tanks, machine guns, explosions of grenades and gasoline bottles. If the author's novels were filmed, the results would be wonderful, spectacular action films.

The last chapters of the novel turned out great. The book ends touchingly and sadly, but leaves hope for the continuation of human life.

Rating: 7

"The light is banished..."

Today I will leave a review of Robert McCammon’s book “Swan Song. Volume 1, The Last War."

Honestly? This is my first science fiction book by a foreign author (well, not exactly foreign... Let's say, not of Slavic origin). It's even somehow embarrassing. I have read more than a hundred books, but have not read foreign authors in my favorite genre. Well, now I have corrected the situation. And I didn’t regret it at all.

I'll start from afar - with the first impression. It was a long time ago, because I read the book in fragments, because it was heavy not only with the writing style (although this is not surprising, given the translation), but also with the events described in the work.

Then it seemed to me that it was not for me, and I put it off until better times. Now I understand that the book is still for me.

The very first chapter captivates with its scale - closed council President of the United States of America and his closest colleagues, which was held under the question “to start or not III World War"? It immediately becomes clear that the main people on the planet are also people who are capable of worrying, being afraid, and even more so - right in the face of nuclear danger. So, the verdict is accepted, and the order must be carried out. And we turn the page and are transported straight from the White House...

Straight to the New York trash heap, where one of the GGs of the book is waiting for us - Sister Horror, a crazy homeless woman who is not alien to the concept of “good”, but Sister is alien to goodness...

She lives her unpleasant life, calling people to worship God, sleeping in boxes and rummaging through trash cans. Many moments from the life of homeless people are shown: how they get food, where they should look for shelter, how other people of higher social status treat them.

Then we find ourselves in a small van, where an ordinary mother and her man are arguing, and a little girl, Sue Wanda, is watching it all. Who is she? She is a Child. Great Child. The same Svan from whom the title of the book came. Grass grows under her, where it should not grow at all, all living things are drawn to the girl, and she responds with great reciprocity...

Black Frankenstein. Wrestler, "wrestler". Josh Hutchins. A huge, big guy with only a soul bigger than his body. He must put on a mask that is disgusting to him, go into the ring and earn money, but he himself wants one thing - to see his children, and, if possible, make peace with his wife. But, of course, there is not enough time...

Well, and the last main character of the book, thirteen-year-old teenager Roland Kroninger, who has a fixed idea - the so-called game, “Knight of the King”. First, Rol plays it on the computer, and then in real life...

The book describes very significant events and covers topics such as everyday life people from different walks of life and how it radically changes their lives nuclear war how children become killers, or involuntarily become smarter than adults. Each character in the book is certainly a Personality. Even if it is “intraliterary”.

The world is detailed so skillfully that even the classics would envy. However, this book is also a classic, but of its own genre. Written back in 1987 and published at the same time, it is the progenitor of all post-apocalyptic books. And I think that until now a book has not been written that is superior to “Swan Song” in at least one parameter.

I recommend this masterpiece to all readers who respect themselves and love excellent science fiction, in which the meaning is an endless chain of carriages. “Swan Song” mercilessly shows all the ins and outs of life outside normal society, and at the same time shows the true values ​​and goals for a person. Brilliant.

Rating: 8

Swan’s song is a wonderful apocalyptic of the highest standard in the early 80s, when you didn’t have to go far to find the plot, everything was on TV screens and on the pages of newspapers. Good auntie, nuclear war, waving a red flag, was knocking on the houses of respectable Americans and for the world to turn into mincemeat from the rubble of wasteland cities of radiation and gangs of raiders from the 2nd Mad Max, there was no need to invent a deadly comet, a superflu virus, a zombie invasion or anything else like that. Let's be honest, there is an intersection with King's outcome, but it is nothing more than plot elements, the style and approach to the whole picture are not at all the same and they are damn good. It's amazing how strongly and harmoniously we managed to fit the theme of love, sentimentality, faith and hope into the darkness of the universal nightmare and chaos. After the life of a boy, this is definitely the author's best work.

Rating: 9

“Svan’s Song” was written back in 1987. The topic of post-apocalypse is much more relevant now than then. The world has gone through times Cuban missile crisis, when the probability of nuclear war was very high, which is now recognized by almost all experts. The confrontation between the superpowers - the USSR and the USA ended with the collapse of the Soviet Union, although the possibility of a Third World War cannot be ruled out. But in 1987 everything was different. There was a constant pressure public opinion, harsh attacks by state leaders on both sides, espionage intrigues went beyond all reasonable limits. Therefore, it is not surprising that McCammon did not come up with anything supernatural and destroyed the world with the help nuclear weapons, used by the USSR and the USA.

This work can be called differently. But the most suitable definition is a mystical thriller based on the end of the world. Post-apocalypse is still a little different, although at that time everything may have seemed that way. McCammon completely destroyed the United States, leaving only small islands of surviving people. The picture shown by the author is terrible. Most of the survivors are crazy and very sick people who see everything in the light of religious rage. Many have lost the remnants of humanity, although initially they were all people.

A group of people moves around a destroyed country and experiences everything that happened for themselves. There is no hope, no way out, but if you believe the visions of one crazy woman, then somewhere the last stronghold of civilization remains. If you get there, you can try to change at least something.

There was a lot I didn't like about the book. And the author’s ideas about the nuclear end of the world have too many inconsistencies and contradictions. I didn’t like the heroes, they were too kind and trusting, although it was impossible for such people to survive in the new world. Didn't like the constant visions main character, more like nonsense. But at the same time, it’s interesting to read this work; you worry about the fate of this world, although you don’t really believe in it. This is far from the author’s best novel, so it’s not worth starting to get acquainted with the writer’s work.

Rating: 7

I re-read the novel for the first time, since 1993, the first edition in Russian called “The Enjoyment of Death.” And what struck me was that I remember the content of the novel EXCELLENTLY. It was so ingrained in my memory, it left such vivid impressions.

Everything is impressive. Scenes of a nuclear disaster, scenes of survival, work and failures of the human psyche in a state of crisis. What can I say... a lot of reviews have been written about this wonderful novel. I don't want to repeat myself. I'll just say this. Over the past couple of decades, Russian-language fiction has experienced several massive waves of works across genres. Light fantasy, stalkerism, miscreants (we are very much experiencing this right now), and there was also a fashion for the apocalypse. And how negligibly few the authors were able to create something even remotely close in terms of impact on the reader. Yes, there are negligible numbers there - perhaps no one. And not only Russian speakers. In all of the world's science fiction, there are very few apocalyptic works of this level.

Rating: 10

I expected both more and less. Of course, there is so little post-apocalyptic fiction in literature that there is not much choice. And against this background, the book looks good, but overall... The author, as always, could not restrain himself and shoved in the idea of ​​Absolute Evil and no less absolute Good, again without bothering to think about the arguments. Yes, and Good has an artifact sucked from his finger.

Spoiler (plot reveal) (click on it to see)

Also, by the way, a ring, which is also a crown.

Another drawback, quite strongly related to the first one, is that it is stupidly fanfic based on the Confrontation. No, the world there is different, there is no trace of Captain Shustrik (Thrips), the heroes are also not the same - in every sense, but the scheme is the same. Several heroes, the apocalypse, their wanderings in the ruins, then

Spoiler (plot reveal) (click on it to see)

last Stand A Very Bad Uncle with a Very Good Aunt. And all this was sucked out of thin air. By the way, he also called his uncle the King, although not red - and this is hardly a reference to Elvis.

And the author has a VERY poor idea of ​​radiation contamination, much less direct hit atomic bomb. No, nothing like that fell on my head either, but Chernobyl hit me almost on my doorstep, so I’m strong, at least in theory. Yes, and the realities hit the nail on the head – and these are just secondary stories. And in McCammon, the heroes crawl out of the cellar almost at the epicenter and stomp onward. That is, like this: a bomb falls, one of the occasional comrades sees a mushroom, his eyes are happily leaking out, but he is alive! - hides in the basement. And his comrades trample the earth for another ten years. No, they feel bad and are sick, but they are trampling!

But we must admit that the author suspected the side behind him, so - well, of course! – everything is excused with a mystical component. Like, these are apologists for That Same Absolute Good, how can they die? They will also recover, but how? Well, the fact that nothing is done by bad people is so elementary! They're bad, that's why atomic bomb their brother.)))

And here’s another thing: those who survived the cataclysm have been eating radiation canned food and rats for ten years. What rats eat is a mystery. Kirdyk came not only in the face of infection and boom, but also in the face of nuclear winter. I mean, it's dark and VERY cold. Accordingly, nothing is growing. And here’s the problem: Moses had manna, this is understandable. But where are so many canned goods from? And there is not even a mystical excuse. Even the one-day-old Glukhovsky came up with the idea of ​​growing champignons, but McCammon missed something...

Well, that’s all, perhaps, regarding the shortcomings. Yes, it's worse than King, but better than all other efforts in this genre. I'm not talking about the Chrysalids, of course, but about dancing on the ruins. I would even say that this book is a must-read for teenagers - so that they, damn it, have the idea that a good book can also entertain. Because it is written correctly, and it says the right things. And real people live there. And they die too, how could they do without it?

The world, if you do not take into account the flaws with radiation and food, is quite real and voluminous. Perhaps he lacks King's comic book contours, which make the ugly ruins of civilization the attractive ruins of an ancient castle, and you - a child who climbs there to play. McCammon is a contrast. He has a Very Good Aunt, not a black old lady, but very much even Galadriel. A young thin blonde with curls and a porcelain face. Well, at first she will be scary, but kind - she’ll be very sick, yeah. And then - Galadriel. But it’s also a sin to complain: only old Stevie can make a heroine out of a legless, kleptomaniac black woman with a personality disorder. McCammon was a bit thinner, but he tried.

Shaking off the dust of the old world from their feet, the heroes show it to us quite vividly: fragments, scraps, corpses (again, in quantities much smaller than King’s). It looks like the graphics in 2012. Just as beautiful and just as crazy.

Readability is quite good, mainly due to the empathy for the characters. They are different and interesting, even the absent (well, I don’t believe in her!) blonde in childhood is decently described in this way - well, this is until she was touched by that same Absolute Good. Well, this is very close to literature, the text does not cause rejection at all (unlike realism).

The author did a great job with the characters. Let's discount the blonde and can enjoy ourselves. The main apologist for Good is a crazy homeless woman and an old black boxer. Big and scary, seen by Spawn. But good is very good. In general, in my opinion, it was licked from there.

The negative ones are also wonderful: a boy playing with a computer, a kind of nerd with an iron heart, an apologist not so much for Evil as for the eternal “Cruel but reasonable.” And a military guy who was very active in Vietnam. Just cruel, without any reason for you. Both are funny and also empathetic, oddly enough.

Overall, I am very pleased with meeting these people. No frills, all realities. Respect.

Searching for an idea buried in the place where a beaver fought with a donkey is a thankless task. Well, sort of good guys they will still win that inner beauty is more important than outer beauty and a bunch of other hackneyed truths.

Soulfulness is present only through the characters - events are perceived through their eyes, merging with the described characters is achieved almost completely - even with the bad ones. Their motives are clear and understandable, although I want to condemn them, I really want to. But sometimes you also judge yourself.

The immersion is greatly enhanced by the unreality of what is happening, the mystical component, if you like. But McCammon gravitates strongly towards absolute values, but cannot fit them into the picture of the world. And no one can, for that matter. The world is a very relative thing.

In addition, the pictures of devastation are real, and so are the people forced to live in them. Even though the lack of development of the world pulls you into reality, the rest of the time between the pages is quite lived.

Rating: 10

The first feeling is bewilderment. Why, 10 years later, did the author need a literary remake of King’s confrontation, and one that was much weaker than the original? As far as I can tell, Robert McCammon is a fairly strong prose writer, capable of both good dramatic stagecraft and interesting plot twists. Why was such a “slave” novel needed, and even on a truly grandiose scale? Would McCammon really not have enough talent for an original plot intrigue on the theme of the victory of good over evil?

So, the plot according to Stephen King's scheme is an apocalypse, the manifestation of adherents of evil and good, a huge quest for their convergence, a decisive battle. If you've read The Confrontation, there won't be any special finds.

But Robert McCammon's stage design is worth studying. The author, as I have already noted, is an excellent prose writer. Good, “life-like” drive of events, wonderful surroundings and coloring of scenes and dialogues. However, in my opinion, in the mystical horror genre, the author loses. Where King shines with “everyday horror,” getting on our nerves with ordinary things and making miracles out of them, Robert McCammon uses quite ordinary trash and very primitive mysticism. The author is also let down by the enormous volume of text, which tires both the reader and himself.

The characters are written quite at the level of the author's talent. The main bastard came out villainously flat, but the rest are very lively and dynamic. The level of misanthropy of the author aroused curiosity. Basically, right up to the epilogue, good people we meet a few, and they all have a purely functional purpose, according to the plot. But the bastards, disgusting and dirty to the extreme, walk in droves, everywhere. I'll have to read something else from the author.

The ending is weak, veering into tearful melodrama, and very primitive in its moral message. To improve this world, the author needed an atomic bomb.

As a result, I read the novel with interest. However, having finished, I am forced to admit that the interest was not in the novel itself, but in the dynamics of the author's abilities in the process of writing it. At the end there was not a feeling of pleasure, but relief from the completed work.

Rating: 6

I am forced to give a final grade that was reduced by a point for the translation.

The translation is terrible and disgusting, at least in the edition I read. And in many ways it spoiled the impression of the novel.

As for the work itself, it is strong, and the main strength is in the focal characters, each of whom is well done, and you empathize with each of them, even the negative Roland for the time being.

By the way, Roland’s line itself is apparently the strongest in the novel. His gradual, step-by-step transformation into a monster is shown very convincingly, much more convincingly than the transformation of the alcoholic and tramp Sister Horror into the strong-willed and purposeful Samaritan Sister.

The post-apocalyptic world itself is not very different from many created before and after McCammon. The disengagement of survivors, armed gangs, horrors, freaks with chainsaws and other paraphernalia regularly wanders from novel to novel. But the images and fates of the heroes were definitely a success, and this, as for me, makes “Swan’s Song” stand out among its peers. In a decent translation, I would give it a nine, apparently. But in the early nineties, when I read it, there was no alternative.

Rating: 8

I don’t consider myself a fan of the masters of Horror, so I read this work exclusively in the light (or in the Darkness?) of post-apocalyptic fiction.

There was nowhere to escape from the stereotyped literary devices of the American fairy-tale-horror classics of the genre: in the post-nuclear farce, only strange people. Here you have a schizoid veteran colonel thirsting for power and blood; and a notorious sadistic gamer boy (and at the time the book was written, computer games were not like they are now); and a kind inside, but scary outside, black wrestler; and an obsessed homeless woman who has lost her mind; and the vile, multifaceted embodiment of Evil, swearing dirty and spitting flies; and, finally, the Wonder Girl, who revives all sorts of stunted vegetation, as well as Robin from the forest.

An impeccably powerful beginning to a novel that represents the embodiment of all fears cold war led by nuclear winter and Soviet Union, smoothly flows into a scary fairy tale with a hackneyed allusion to the "Wizard of Oz" ("Land of Oz") in the spirit of "Mad Max", in which the wonderful girl Svan must get out of the post-nuclear apocalypse with the help of new friends, transforming miraculous power A land oppressed by surviving perverts and eccentrics of all stripes. Her companions, led by the magical Glass Ring, must fight the real incarnation of Satan for her, and in a pathetic finale meet the imaginary “God”. The mentally healthy will survive, the mentally ill will die, and the young will live in a bright future and make good things.

Of particular interest:

Spoiler (plot reveal) (click on it to see)

How did the girl Swan master high-speed printing on a computer keyboard? But this question will appear at the very end.

Rating: 6

The novel "Swan Song" is often compared to "The Stand" by Stephen King.

Indeed, the principles of construction of these works have much in common: after a global catastrophe, a certain Dark Man appears (either a devil or a demon), who sooner or later gathers an army of the fallen and leads it into battle against the army of Light, led by one of the remaining Land of the Righteous. And on the bones of the former world, the last battle is being played out, designed to determine the fate of all humanity.

Differences in in this case, are hidden in the details, however, they are also very similar.

King (K) has a superflu epidemic, McCammon (M) has a nuclear war; K has dreams, M has visions in a glass ring; K has the characters fleeing through the Lincoln Tunnel, M has “It took them several hours to cross the space between the top of Fifth Avenue and their first destination, the Lincoln Tunnel. However, the tunnel collapsed, and the river flooded it right up to the toll gate, near which a pile of crushed cars lay, concrete plates and corpses. ...now they had to wait until morning to find out if the Holland Tunnel had collapsed too.”

And even in the characters, if you wish, you can find similar traits.

For example, the “very good carpenter” Alvin Mangrim combined the features of two characters"Confrontations": madness and skill with the Garbage Can technique:

Spoiler (plot reveal) (click on it to see)

"- Great. Just great. By the first of October, and maybe earlier, three guys will already be able to fly Skyhawks. Hank Rawson is simply magnificent. And Garbage Can is a real genius. He doesn't drag around on some things, but as soon as it comes to weapons, he transforms.

– Is he so good with weapons? – she asked Lloyd.

“Yes, he’s just a god.”

2. Quote from “Swan Song” (translation by O. Kolesnikov):

“The work lasted three days and three nights, and Colonel McLean provided everything that Mangrim required. ...It was a damn simple thing, but he would never have come up with it, and even if he had, he wouldn't have known how to do it. He didn't like or trust Alvin Mangrim, but he admitted that he was smart. If such a thing was suitable for a medieval army, then it was certainly suitable for the Army of Perfect Warriors.”

and love for the Kid’s stylish cars:

Spoiler (plot reveal) (click on it to see)

1. Quote from “Confrontation” (translation by A. Medvedev):

“This car was a beauty that had been worked on for many years and many thousands of dollars had been invested into it. Such cars are found only at vintage car exhibitions, they are the fruit hard work and love. It was a 1932 Ford sports two-seater. On the side it said: BABY.”

2. Quote from “Swan Song” (translation by O. Kolesnikov):

“McLean heard the sound of a horn and looked back to see a bright red converted Cadillac with an armored windshield, rushing straight through the other cars towards the front. ...Alvin Mangrim leaned over the mangled hood of the red Cadillac. Steam hissed out of the cracked radiator. The metal was riddled with bullet marks, and streams of blood flowed from the observation slot of the tower. Mangrim grinned, his forehead deeply cut by a metal fragment.”

Well, firstly, for the sake of a dynamic plot that doesn’t let go for a minute.

Secondly, for the sake of bright literary images and the characters of the main characters, even if they lacked King’s trademark psychology.

Well, and thirdly, for the sake of the strong positive emotions that this work will certainly give you when you turn the last page.

And also for the sake of hope and faith in humanity, in all of us, with which every page of this amazing novel is imbued.

Rating: 8

The book is about how even among general despair there is a place for hope and miracle. That evil is insidious, strong, but defeatable, cowardly and even stupid. That the main thing is to remain HUMAN. But these are lyrics. In fact, this novel is a fairy tale. With exaggerated good and bad heroes. And although the novel is framed by a post-apocalyptic idea, it should be perceived precisely as a fairy tale, a fairy tale for adults. And then the somewhat far-fetched plot and one-sided characters will fade into the background. After all, in a fairy tale, good always triumphs over evil. And this is good:wink:

This is not a story of survival, this is a story about hope, about the struggle between good and evil, about people who move forward no matter what.

SONG SWAN

Dedicated to Sallu, whose inner face is also
beautiful, just like the outside. We survived the comet!

PART ONE. FRONTIER, AFTER PASSING
WHICH IS IMPOSSIBLE TO RETURN

1. ONCE UPON A TIME

July 16, 10:27 p.m. (Eastern) daytime).
Washington, DC

“Once upon a time we liked to play with fire,” thought the President
United States, while the match he lit to light his pipe
burned between his fingers.
He stared at her, fascinated by the play of the flame, and while it
flared up, his mind painted a picture of a tower of flames a thousand high
feet, whirling through the country he loved, burning along the way
cities and towns, turning rivers into steam, scattering farms into ruins,
who were here from time immemorial, and sweeping up the ashes of seventy million human bodies
into the dark sky. Fascinated by this terrible picture, he looked at how
the flame engulfed the match, and realized that there was power here in miniature
creation, and the power of destruction: the flame could cook food, illuminate
darkness, melt iron - and could burn human flesh. Something,
resembling a small, unblinking pink eye opened in the center
flames, and he wanted to scream. He woke up at two in the morning from a nightmare
such a sacrifice and began to cry, and could not stop, and the first
The lady tried to calm him down, but he continued to tremble and sob like
child. He sat in the Oval Office until dawn, again and again
looking at maps and top-secret reports, but they all talked about
one: _P_e_r_v_y_y _U_d_a_r_...
The flame burned my fingers. He shook the match and threw it at the one standing in front of him.
him an ashtray decorated with a relief of the presidential seal. A thin trickle
smoke swirled towards the ventilation grille of the cleaning system
air.
- Sir? - someone said. He looked up and looked around at the group of strangers,
sitting in the so-called Situation Room of the White House, saw in front of
a computer map of the globe on a high-resolution screen,
a line of telephones and television screens arranged in a semicircle in front of him, like
on the fighter control panel, and he wanted God to land
someone else into his chair so that he can again become just a senator and