He has a fast, boisterous language, and if it were not for his ruler, literary studies, today we would have a brilliant poet named Hrant Tamrazyan, a constructive and finished novelist, or we would have a most Armenian dramatist. that hypersensitivity to the rise of the beautiful, that love that humbles him to worship before the artistic structure is his unique characteristic, and even at this age of 60, when he is already worshiping the fact of life and the dryness of the unexpressed mind, you can lock that man in any bare room and squeeze out image after image and line after line from our selection of two thousand-year-old literature - not a single worthy image of any famous or anonymous author will fall out of his selection.
He knows people in a rural way and, therefore, his love, hatred, infatuation and skepticism, which take on a kind of heavy materiality, are final and finished, his mind is quick and his speech, the joy of students, especially the oral one, is accurate, and today we will reflect on one of his stories, trying to guess the reason why someone so gifted became a literary scholar instead of a poet. it would of course only be plausible, but is there any way to try?
This is what he said. The owners of those poor, fearful days come to feast in the village, it is not appropriate for them to leave the houses of the village, they feast in the gardens. Of course, they brought the dishes and carpets from the same village, honey, meat and yogurt as well, and with that they closed their accounts with the village, the village does not exist for them, maybe they don't even know what the name of the village is and who caressed the garden. And the gun is already theirs, lie down under the tree, they aim at the only red apple.
The village does not exist for them, but they exist for the village, for the group of young people, and especially for the blue-eyed Hrant among them. A group of young people sits silently at the head of the garden and watches. From the inside, if they want water or send cigarettes to the store, they are so obedient that they will go and run, but that does not mean that one of the youths wants their ball to go to the apple, it does not mean that uncontrollable anger does not swell in the youth Hrant from that moment on.
That apple, that poor president of the kolkhoz, who spread the garden in front of the guests and stood in humble service himself, that "Black seed sower" who always had his shirt under his belt, that "Charents" who constantly changed places in the house, that tragic and heroic past, that equally tragic present, who isolated himself from the reality of the past and closed his eyes to the future - they wanted a protector, a master over them, and the literary scholar's work provided such a mastery. Is that how they become a literary critic? Is that how they become a literary critic? I don't know. Even if he didn't have such a case, he would have created it himself, and his weighty merit is already made up of volumes of defenses.
The done is many and insurmountable, so is the to-do. Thank you for the school and university manuals and monographs, which become a part of the authors' heritage, but at least there is no article signed by Hrant Tamrazyan about Hamastar, there is no article about Hakob Mndzuru, Andranik Tsarukyan, William Saroyan... and many others who will extend a fraternal hand perhaps even from other linguistic crusts.