Propaganda

[namenski]

За команду је најопасније кад је војска докона. Онда почне да размишља углавном о чему не треба и крене да прави глупости. А током Првог светског рата доста времена се проводило одмарајући иза линије фронта.

Зато и не чуди што су слали књиге својим војницима. Поготово јер нису могли да оду у прву француску библиотеку, да не помињемо да није било ни радија, ни ТВ-а.

U teoriji i praksi nekih vojski i nekih vremena, da.

Takozvane regularne vojske, masovne, s kraja 19. i pocetka 20. veka nikako nisu volele citanje, a intelektualac je bio omrazena pojava u svakom oficirskom koru Evrope. Britanski oficir tog doba je polagao ispit iz Euklidove geometrije i nista vise od toga; sam car i kralj Franc Jozef se hvalio javno da je u zivotu procitao samo pravilo sluzbe i ta je legenda podrzavana sve do samog kraja, kako njegovog tako i monarhije mu.

Citanje i opismenjavanje, masovno i sistematicno, doslo je na red sa ideologijama i Revolucijama koje su zavladale svetom posle WW1: nisu dzabe sve revolucionarne vojske/pokreti 20. veka besomucno i ciljano prionuli na opismenjavanje takozvanih masa.

Prvo, zato sto se radilo o zaostalim drustvima, sa preko 90% nepismenih (Rusija, Kina, u manjoj meri i Jugoslavija), a drugo sto je trebalo dobiti, govorilo se izgraditi svesnog borca. Ne mali doprinos opstoj stvari predstavljalo je ukljucivanje zena u taj posao: u tredicionalnim drustvima kao sto su ona koja sam pomenuo, polozaj i uticaj zene je povecan do nevidjenih granica samim njihovim ukljucivanjem u takozvani pokret i rusenje takozvanih tradicionalnih vrednosti o polozaju zene u drustvu koje je, po pravilu, zastupala i zagovarala druga strana.

Nisu dzabe boljsevici bili optuzivani za promociju slobodne ljubavi po principu svako sa svakim, a komesar sve zajedno, nota erotskog koja je posebno zagolicavala mastu evropskog malogradjanina i dajuci mu priliku da se primereno uzasava.

Nisu dzabe svim diskriminisanim manjinama pre svega pripisivani seksualni zlocini i to oni najstrasniji, pa je tako stereotip prikazivanja Jevreja ukljucivao obavezno rodoskvrnuce nad nekom plavom, obavezno naivnom i nevinom devojkom ili, posebna poslastica, decom.

Idealan slucaj za antikomunisticku propagandu je bila kombinacija boljsevika/komuniste i Jevrejina - govorim naravno o Istocnoj Evropi, Rusiji pre svega, s tim sto je Amerika, kasnije, tokom Hladnog rata dala svoj znacajan doprinos.

 

 

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[bigvlada]

The Soviet Union was a world in pictures. Its creation in the wake of the Russian revolutions of February–March and October–November 1917 was facilitated by a vibrant image culture based largely on new media technologies. Its periodic re-makings – during Stalin’s Great Leap Forward (1928–1932), World War II (1941–1945), the Thaw (1956–1964), Perestroika (1987–1991) – were all accompanied by new media revolutions. Now, twenty years after the disappearance of the USSR, despite the decidedly mixed legacy of the Soviet experiment, the Soviet image continues to fascinate and to mystify.

Two of the most striking manifestations of Soviet image culture were the children’s book and the poster. Both of these media testify to the alliance between experimental aesthetics and radical socialist ideology that held tenuously from the 1917 revolutions to the mid-1930s and defined the look of Soviet civilization. The children’s books and posters featured in “Adventures in the Soviet Imaginary” allow us to relate this new image culture to the formation of new social and cultural identities under the watchful eye of a powerful and oppressive state. They cover a crucial period, from the beginning of Stalin’s Great Breakthrough in 1928 to the re-construction and re-grouping that followed the Great Patriotic War, as the Soviets called World War II. As these works show vividly, there was no ideologically neutral space in the rich and vibrant world of the Soviet imagination. By the same token, though, there was no zone of Soviet life free of the image.

“Adventures in the Soviet Imaginary” is drawn entirely from the collections of the University of Chicago Library. The Special Collections Research Center (SCRC) at the University of Chicago houses a large collection of over 400 Soviet children’s books published between 1927 and 1948, with the majority dated 1930-1935. This collection, the provenance of which is not known, is supplemented by a small but fascinating group of Soviet children’s books from 1930-1931 acquired by the Library as part of the R R Donnelley & Sons Company Training Department Library, where they were used in the company’s distinguished apprentice program for printers. Individual items have also been drawn from the Library’s general circulating collections. The posters in the exhibit are from the Dr. Harry Bakwin and Dr. Ruth Morris Bakwin Soviet Posters Collection, a group of nineteen posters from 1930-1932, collected on two trips to the Soviet Union and donated to the Library by their son E. M. Bakwin.

 

http://www.lib.uchicago.edu/e/webexhibits/sovietchildrensbooks/index.html

 

 

The Future’s Style

Every Soviet child was destined to live in a world that did not yet exist, a world very different from the one familiar to the adult Soviet illustrators. With the harrowing and tumultuous experiences of war, revolution, and reconstruction still recent memories, artists engaged in the production of Soviet children’s books during the 1920s and 1930s inhabited a paradoxical creative environment: the child-reader could not be shown the world as it is, or as it really was, but only as it will be. The child had to be imagined as a traveler biding time in the same visual universe as the illustrator, yet the laws of history had already decreed that the young Soviet citizen would soon move on to the future. Therefore, any truly “Soviet” children’s illustrations needed to find a way to exist simultaneously on several different planes of experience.

In such a collectively anticipatory atmosphere, the children’s illustrations of famed pre-revolutionary artists, such as Ivan Bilibin (1876-1942, Item 1), could serve only as negative examples for the aspiring designer. Throughout the early Stalin era, Bilibin’s evocative, elaborate graphic ensembles seemed inherently backward-looking, hostile to the future-oriented disposition of a vital, resourceful reading public. Such ornate, yet tastefully rustic illustrations offered nostalgic pictures of a primitive Russian past, a mental and physical space destined for oblivion in the technologically advanced Soviet state. As such, the traditional visual register of Russian children’s books (comforting and comfortable pictures of cuddly creatures, cozy cabins, and picturesque forests) simply had no place in the new representational order.

Rather than fleshing out such themes, the Soviet illustrator learned to place a protagonist’s activities in a kind of empty space, a zone dominated by boldly-rendered figures acting within an expanse of immaterial whiteness. Thus, perhaps the most obvious stylistic transformation in Soviet children’s books revolves around the appearance (and gradual disappearance in the years before and after World War II) of the blank spaces that typically surround a book’s principal “action.” In illustrations such as those of Nikolai Denisovskii’s in Zoloto (Gold, Item 2) and Bei v Baraban! (Bang the Drum! Item 3) the juvenile reader encounters a radically disembodied world of people and objects lodged in barely imaginable landscapes. By design, such books made it difficult for the child to relate her daily experiences to the illustrations set before her. Similarly, in Aleksandr Deineka’s productions for children, visual relationships emphasize an overwhelming sense of non-belonging: odd perspectives, machine-like shapes, and intense colors define the atmosphere. Such gestures overturn the incorporative, reassuring logic of Bilibin’s graphic work by teaching the child always to expect the unexpected. In this way, illustrations such as Konstantin Kuznetsov’s for Mikhail Ruderman’s Subbotnik (Saturday Work, Item 4) prod the reader to prepare for the appearance of new visual constellations. These defamiliarizing strategies reached their apex in the children’s literature of the late 1920s and early 1930s.

Soon enough, however, a new visual idiom began to emerge, one far more consonant with the pre-revolutionary era. One need only compare the transformation of Vladimir Lebedev’s illustrations between his work in Samuil Marshak’s Bagazh (Luggage, Item 5) and those he created for Raznotsvetnaia kniga (The Multicolored Book, Item 6). In the course of those sixteen years, Lebedev abandons the generic, generalizing tone of Luggage for The Multicolored Book’s welcoming grammar of colorful butterflies and luxurious banks of snow. In other words, as the Soviet Union emerges from the traumas of rapid modernization, forced collectivization, and mass purges (not to mention the horrors of World War II), Lebedev emerges from those years of displacement and disturbance a transformed man. His work reflects his change from being an avant-gardist of the first order and a master of Soviet pedagogical minimalism, into a devoted retro-traditionalist. Perhaps the artist had concluded that a renewed rendering of the familiar offered a crucial source of psychic nourishment in a time of troubles, a reassuring voice within the violent cacophony of Soviet mass self-improvement. Throughout the postwar era, these competing styles reappear in the realm of children’s illustration, the soothing images of a nostalgic past resisting the abstracting will of a Communist future.

 

Skazka gore (A Tale of Woe). Illus. by Ivan Bilibin. Moscow: G.E. Lissner, 1902.

 

Nikolai Fedorovich Denisovskii. Zoloto (Gold). Moscow: OGIZ, Molodaia gvardiia, 1931.

 

E. Tarakhovskaia. Bei v baraban! (Bang the Drum!). Illus. by Nikolai Fedorovich Denisovskii. Moscow: Gosudarstvennoe izd-vo, 1930. 3rd ed.

 

Mikh. Ruderman. Subbotnik (Saturday Work). Illus. by K. Kuznetsova. Moscow: Gos. izd-vo, 1930.

 

Samuil Marshak. Bagazh (Luggage). Illus. by Vladimir Vasil'evich Lebedev. Leningrad: Molodaia gvardiia, 1931. 6th ed. © Estate of Vladimir Vasilevich Lebedev/RAO, Moscow/VAGA, New York.

 

Samuil Marshak. Raznotsvetnaia kniga (The Muticolored Book). Illus. by Vladimir Vasil'evich Lebedev. Moscow: Gos. izd-vo detskoi lit-ry Ministerstva prosveshcheniia RSFSR, 1947. © Estate of Vladimir Vasilevich Lebedev/RAO, Moscow/VAGA, New York.

 

http://www.lib.uchicago.edu/e/webexhibits/sovietchildrensbooks/futurestyle.html

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Viewing and Learning




N. V. Tsivchinskii. Pobeda piatiletki – udar po kapitalizmu (The Victory of the Five Year Plan is a Strike Against Capitalism), lithograph poster, 1931. Dr. Harry Bakwin and Dr. Ruth Morris Bakwin Soviet Posters Collection.

Produced for neither a free market nor traditional art institutions, Soviet art in the 1930s served a primarily pedagogical purpose. Graphic art especially was envisioned as a form of communication that would not only convey a specific meaning to its audience but also act upon its viewer in a manner somewhat reminiscent of the avant-garde’s ambition of shaping a new model citizen. However, while still taking seriously their predecessors’ belief in the correlation between aesthetic and social forms, one might argue that Soviet graphic artists focused their energies on shaping human consciousness rather than creating a new, revolutionary social organization.

Nikolai Troshin. Khlebozavod No. 3 (Bread Factory No. 3). Illus. by Ol'ga Deineko. Moscow: OGIZ, Molodaia gvardiia, 1931. 2nd ed.


Soviet children’s books and posters made use of their distinct perceptual effects and anticipated modes of reception in order to realize particular pedagogical goals. Soviet graphic art was most often intended for reproduction, dissemination, and viewership on a mass scale. One can observe a shift from presentness and verticality in the posters to duration and horizontality in the children’s books. This shift can be understood in terms of the difference between a pedagogical art that projects its function through agitational directives and one characterized by edificatory guidance.

Posters in particular were addressed to the collective, and this collective address was imagined to contribute to the creation of a new Soviet citizenry through direct appeal and agitation. Posters endeavor to communicate their messages as widely and instantaneously as possible by constructing a monumental space within a single plane. This is evident in the poster “The Victory of the Five Year Plan Is a Blow Against Capitalism,” (N.V. Tsivchinskii, Item 1) which conveys a singular, unequivocal message through the depiction of a few iconic images in a spatially symbolic arrangement that is immediately both comprehensible and compelling.

 

Aleksandr Nikolaevich Abramov. Konveier (Conveyer Belt). Illus. by Aleksei Mikhailovich Laptev. Moscow: OGIZ, Molodaia gvardiia, 1932.


Children’s books, on the other hand, were oriented towards individual consumption. They thus encouraged a mode of viewing that was both more personalized and more contemplative. Books manipulate their extended spatial format to act as a metaphor for the passage of time. The multi-page design of the books offers the opportunity to create a durational effect through the use of literary narrative and a long-term, tactile engagement. In Konveier (Conveyer Belt, Item 2), for instance, the illustrators utilize the extended space of the book format to depict progress over time in two ways. On a two-page spread at the beginning of the book, the process of building a car is illustrated in a sequential zig-zag around the plane of the pages so as to allow the viewer to chart the steps of the assembly line. Here consecutive moments in time are conveyed by the images’ placement across the two-page plane, yet the majority of the book illustrates over several sequential pages the collaborative, gradual process of creating a three-dimensional construction from a sheet of paper.

 

Vladimir Mayakovsky. Kem byt'? (Whom Shall I Be?). Illus. by Nisson Abramovich Shifrin. Moscow: Molodaia gvardiia, 1931. 3rd ed.5. Click on image to open slideshow.


Khlebozavod (Bread Factory No. 3, Item 3) manipulates the temporal possibilities of the book format in a similar manner. Opening with a nocturnal image of a bread factory and closing with one of the factory in the morning, the book illustrates the method of making bread from start to finish. The foldout pages in the middle of the book best convey this process. The outer flaps of the foldout section depict individuals performing the first and last stages of the factory’s procedure, mirroring the night and morning scenes presented at the start and end of the book. The four-page spread within portrays the complete process of bread-making with illustrations of machines and the individuals using them at various stages of their successive operations throughout the night. While turning the pages, the reader perceives the passage from the present time into a future one. This phenomenological effect is, of course, related to the young age and nascent consciousness of the book's intended audience – the first truly Soviet generation. These fully Soviet citizens stood apart from the generally older viewers of the posters, who perhaps required a brisker assimilation into the values of the new society.

These distinct pedagogical goals are further reinforced by the perceptual structuring device of verticality and horizontality. The vertical format of the posters is appropriate for the medium’s explicit instruction. The image in the poster “Red Front,” for instance, serves as a visual epitome of the course of action that is described by the text that accompanies it. By illustrating a particular model of behavior through the projection of an idealized worldview, the posters convey a directive to a mass audience in the space of a singular visualization. The poster “Here, There, Everywhere We Are Building Socialism” offers a similar effect. In the background of the poster a structure representative of the new socialist life provides the viewer with a vista onto the future world. In the foreground an instructive figure seems to step out of this idealized worldview and into the viewer’s current world. The poster seems to intimate that if the lead of this directive figure is followed, the bridge between present and future worlds can be traversed.

 

Nikolai Asanov. Domna (Furnace). Illus. by Georgii Echeistov. Moscow: Gos. izd-vo, 1930.


The children’s book’s horizontal orientation, on the other hand, facilitates a more interactive, processual, and individualized experience akin to a guided self-education. The illustrations in books such as Domna (Furnace, Item 4) invite possibilities for individuated interpretations by presenting a number of disparate scenes or images through different perspectives, angles, scales, and in somewhat different styles throughout the book, sometimes even within a single page. Kem Byt? (Whom Shall I Be?, Item 5) offers similarly disjointed and versatile views of particular professions by compiling images from a number of distinct, decentered scenes or representations in incongruous scales and perspectives across the book's pages. The books certainly steer their viewers towards a particular understanding, but they do so in a manner that requires a greater deal of interpretive activity, which is made possible by the greater span of time the book format makes available, both literally and metaphorically.

by Michelle Maydanchik

 

http://www.lib.uchicago.edu/e/webexhibits/sovietchildrensbooks/viewing.html

[iDemo]

 

 

Propaganda: Nobody Does It Better Than America.

 

Paul Weber

 

Over the years, I have had the privilege of meeting and having discussions with people who came to America from countries known for their adherence to totalitarianism: China, Russia, and former east European satellites of the Soviet Union. When we discussed how the state managed to control public opinion under totalitarianism, these people would usually produce a weary, knowledgeable, cynical smile and point out that propaganda in those countries was really done quite incompetently. If you really want to know propaganda, they said, you need to study American propaganda technique. According to them, it is, undeniably, the best in the world.

 

"How can that be?" I asked, honestly puzzled.

 

Propaganda in those countries was too obvious, they told me. As soon as you read the first sentence you knew it was a bunch of propaganda, so you didn't even bother to read it. If you heard a speech, you knew in the first few words that it was propaganda, and you tuned it out.

 

"But," I then queried, "How do you know when it's just propaganda?"

 

The expatriates explained that bad propaganda uses obvious terminology that anyone can see through. Anyone hearing the phrase "capitalist running dogs", knows he's listening to incompetent propaganda and tunes it out. Lousy propaganda, these knowledgeable but jaded individuals would tell me, appeals to an abstract theory, to a rational thesis that can be disproved. Even though communists had total control of the press, the people just tuned it out (except for those who were the most mentally defective). Most people, they assured me, just went about their lives as best they could, paid lip service to the state, and just tried to keep out of the way of the secret police. But hardly anyone really believed the stuff. The result, after many decades of suffering, was the eventual collapse of the old order once The Great Leader expired, whether his name was Brezhnev, Mao, or Tito.

 

American propaganda, however, is much cleverer. American propaganda, they patiently explained, relies entirely on emotional appeals. It doesn't depend on a rational theory that can be disproved: it appeals to things no one can object to.

http://www.purewatergazette.net/propagandainamerica.htm

[Indy]

 

Jako.

[bigvlada]

Meni je ipak hlebozavod najjači termin za sada.  :D   hmm, da su okupirali celu Nemačku, Porše bi se verovatno zvao ZIP (zavodi imena Poršea) a Mercedes ŠAZ (štutgartski automobilski zavod).

[Utvara]

http://youtu.be/GEX1ZDfh1xY

 

Najbrutalnije do sada. Mislio sam da smo zatvorili temu sa onim prvim našidom na nemačkom, ali autor prži i dalje.

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Media

Introduction

Inseparable from the Soviet political and economic revolutions was the revolution in communications. In their frequent representations of media, the Soviet children’s books promote the notion of their society (and of the entire world) as a vast, continuous virtual reality that makes sense of and helps to transform the material world. In this way Soviet children’s books prepare children to become able consumers of media, encourage children to take an active role in shaping their media environment, and in the process transform the very medium of the children’s book.

1.Lev Abramovich Kassil'. Tseppelin (Zeppelin). Illus. by Fedor Kondratov. Moscow: Molodaia gvardiia, 1931. 2nd ed.

Figures of Media

Modern media figure prominently in the books’ stories. Newspapers are frequently the main conduit of information about the wonders of the world. In Lev Kassil’s Tseppelin (Zeppelin, Item 1) the young Peika hears of the arrival of a German Zeppelin from his father, a typesetter at a newspaper. Peika imagines the Linozep, as he calls it, as a grotesque machine that paints the sky with its exhaust, creating a huge celestial newspaper. For him, the material reality is inseparable from the medium in which it is publicized and represented.

 

2,Mikhail Gershenzon. Vysoko vverkh, gluboko vniz (High Up, Deep Down). Illus. by A. Brei. Moscow: OGIZ, Molodaia gvardiia, 1932. 

Mikhail Gershenzon’s Vysoko vverkh, gluboko vniz (High Up, Deep Down, Item 2) also shows a young protagonist learning about a new aerial technology (among other things) directly from the newspaper:

"In the newspaper are letters from around the whole world.
Here it is written how many tractors have been produced
at the Stalingrad factory during the last five year plan.
And here it says that miners have gone on strike in the
American city of Pittsburgh. And here is about how rice has
been sown from airplanes in the Kuban’ region.
And yesterday I read in the newspaper how two
scientists flew way up high in a hot-air balloon."

The boy then reads about expeditions to the floor of the ocean and about how these technologies will allow the USSR to control the weather. The newspaper not only informs; it also empowers. Like other population groups, Soviet children were frequently encouraged to subscribe to newspapers published by their representative organizations, in their case the Pioneers. Thus children were prepared to be active and able consumers of official information.

New Media

From the moment they took power the Soviet authorities adapted new media techniques and technologies to the cause of social transformation. The children’s book developed in close alliance with radio, cinema and such graphic media as the poster.

3.E. Tarakhovskaia. Radio-brigada (Radio Brigade). Illus. by Evgeniia Abramova. Moscow: OGIZ, Molodaia gvardiia, 1931.

 

Elizaveta Tarakhovskaia’s Radio-brigada (Radio Brigade, Item 3) urges young children to join expeditions to install radio receivers in villages so that everyone can hear what Moscow is saying:

Moscow speaks for the Octoberites
about how to raise chicks,
about how to plant radish in the garden,
about how to play at the playground.
Moscow speaks to the pioneer detachments
about how to do gymnastics,
about how Berlin’s factories have struck,
about fascist atrocities in the south of Italy.
Moscow speaks about grain and sowing,
Moscow speaks to everyone, everyone, everyone!

 

 

4.Osip Kolychev. Deti sovetov (Children of the Soviets). Illus. by Elena Afanas'eva and I. Kuleshov. Moscow: Molodaia gvardiia, 1931.

The children’s book was kin to the poster, and numerous writers and artists worked in both genres. The poster appears in children’s books in various guises, sometimes featured as a prominent part of the surrounding world. Osip Kolychev’s Deti sovetov (Children of the Soviets, Item 4) prominently features the design of Gustav Klutsis’ famous election poster from 1930. Sergei Mikhalkov’s Moia ulitsa (My Street, Item 5) instructs how wartime propaganda posters should be viewed:


5.Sergei Mikhalkov. Moia ulitsa (My Street). Illus. by Vladimir Vasil'ev and Iurii Ivanovich Pimenov.

Here they display TASS Windows
For the entire city to see.
The people rush along the streets
But everyone still stops to read
The funny window-poster.
I see Hitler’s portrait
And I know he is a cannibal.
But I do not shake from fear;
I simply laugh it off.
I hold daddy by the hand
And I do not fear the Germans!

The silent cinema of the 1920s was particularly influential in its experiments in the interaction of word and image, which were supposed to complement rather than duplicate each other. Designers of children’s books also drew on cinema in the use of variable font sizes for dramatic emphasis. N. Svinenko’s Deviat’sot piatyi (Nineteen-O-Five, Item 6) refers directly to Sergei Eisenstein’s famous 1926 film for its image of the Potemkin, a ship whose crew mutinied in the course of the 1905 Revolution.

 

6. N. Svinenko, Deviat’sot piatyi (Nineteen-O-Five). Moscow: Gosudarstvennoe izdatel’stvo, 1931.

Producing Media

With the interest in practical know-how it is not surprising to find books like Ia – pechatnik (I Am a Printer, Item 7) and Trafarety (Stencils, Item 8), which tell how to make posters and other printed matter using household materials. D. Vilenskii and A. Gamburger’s Vot eto stengazeta! (Now That’s a Wall Newspaper!) simulates the creation of a bulletin board carrying information both for and by children. In her Oktiabriatskaia zvezdochka (Octoberite Star) Agniia Barto shows how to make a journal and calls for readers to send in their feedback. In his Knizhka-kinoseans o tom kak pioner Gans stachechnyi komitet spas (A Cinema Book About Hans Who Saved the Strike Committee, Item 9) F. Kobrinets even shows how to make and project a homemade film and, at the same time, contribute to world revolution. Thus children were prepared to be active producers of media.

 

7.Ekaterina Zonnenshtral'. Ia pechatnik (I Am a Printer). Illus. by Konstantin Vasil'evich Kuznetsov. Moscow: Molodaia gvardiia, 1932.

 

 

8.A. Gromov. Trafarety (Stencils). Moscow: OGIZ, Molodaia gvardiia, 1931.

 

 

9.F. Kobrinets. Knizhka-kino-seans o tom, kak pioner Gans Stachechnyi Komitet spas (A Cinema Book About Hans ho Saved the Strike Committee). Illus. by Isaak Eberil'. Leningrad: OGIZ, Molodaia gvardiia, 1931.
 

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Children’s Books as a Medium

The focus on media suggests that the Soviet children’s book was intended to become a much more active participant in the public consciousness. In E. Mikini’s Dom gde zhivut knigi (The House Where Books Live, Item 10) books grow legs, characters come to life, films speak of their own free will, and children transform themselves in a “cupboard of metamorphoses.” At the end of the book children are encouraged to cut out pictures of favorite books and play a game in which they collect all the cards for various thematic divisions. Nina Sakonskaia’s book Kukly i knigi (Dolls and Books, Item 11) publicizes a new “theater of the children’s book” in Moscow, which uses the traditional puppet theater to bring children’s books to life. Oleg Shvarts’s Slet (Jamboree, Item 12) places the book at the heart of a new children’s collective. Marshak’s Knizhka pro knizhki (A Book About Books, Item 13) features books held in the University of Chicago Library collections, such as Nikolai Denisovskii’s Tovarishch Artem and Dneprostroi.

 

 

10. E. Mikini. Dom, gde zhivut knigi (The House Where Books Live). Illus. by A. Pravdina. Moscow: OGIZ, Molodaia gvardiia, 1932.

 

11.N. Sakonskaia. Kukly i knigi (Dolls and Books). Illus. by David Shterenberg. Moscow: Molodaia gvardiia, 1932.

 

 

12.Oleg Shvarts. Slet (Jamboree). Moscow: Gos. izd-vo, 1930. 2nd ed.

 

 

13.Samuil Marshak. Knizhka pro knizhki (A Book About Books). Illus. by Dmitrii Isidorovich Mitrokhin. Leningrad: Izd-vo detskoi literatury, Leningradskoe otd-nie, 1935. 5th ed.

by Robert Bird

 

http://www.lib.uchicago.edu/e/webexhibits/sovietchildrensbooks/media.html

[iDemo]

I sad - onako lajtli™ - druga decenija XXI veka - nagradno pitanje:

koliko puta nedeljno deca pred pocetak nastave u (osnovnoj) skoli stoje u stavu mirno uz nacionalnu himnu?

[Topola]

domaći strip:

 

[Topola]

[iDemo]

[noskich]

I sad - onako lajtli™ - druga decenija XXI veka - nagradno pitanje:

koliko puta nedeljno deca pred pocetak nastave u (osnovnoj) skoli stoje u stavu mirno uz nacionalnu himnu?

 

Zavisi gde. U dosta zemalja uvek pred pocetak i pred kraj. Provereno vazi za Singapur i Tajland, ima sigurno dosta jos, samo se nisam interesovao.