The works of V.P. Astafiev (1924—2001) are filled with anxiety for the fate of his native country, which is going through a period of “all sorts of transformations and great construction projects that distorted the face of Holy Rus', turning it into a gloomy muzzle covered with scab of all kinds of waste, vomit of dirty mold and poisonous lichen" | for a person who is losing his human face, conscience, dignity. The author urges you to stop, look into your face: where will this path lead? Is it not from yourself? But happiness lies in honesty and fidelity to one's principles, in simple human joys, in the ability to love.