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Khonina was not the only member of the faculty to hold him in warm regard. In April 1948 Yeltsin was one of but two pupils, out of a total of more than nine hundred, to be selected by headmaster Mikhail Zalesov to sit on the teachers’ committee organizing the assembly for the May Day holiday. Classmates Robert Zaidel and Viktor Nikolin, the other boy named to the May Day committee, qualified for the school’s gold medal in 1949, with straight 5s in tenth grade. Yeltsin was a tier down, in a cohort that was mobile into social strata closed to the older generation. The adult occupations of thirteen members of the Pushkin class of 1949 are known. Among them were seven engineers—one of them Yeltsin—a physicist (Zaidel), a professor of engineering (Nikolin), an architect, an agronomist, an army officer, and a dentist.60

Yeltsin was rambunctious as well as proficient and a striver. In his brief reminiscences with me about Berezniki, fifty-odd years afterward, he said it was into his relations with the educational system that such discomfort as he had with Soviet reality spilled over:

I did have a certain alienation from the school system. I waged war, if you like. Throughout my time as a pupil, I warred with my teachers—with their dictates, with their pedantry, with the absence of any freedom of choice. I might like [Anton] Chekhov, but they would force me to read [Leo] Tolstoy. I read Tolstoy also, yet still I liked Chekhov more…. You may say that, to the extent I opposed the system of instruction, I did it as a sign of protest against something.

The concise stories and plays of Chekhov (1860–1904), with their epiphanies and their argumentative and misunderstood characters, struck much more of a chord with Yeltsin than the voluminous, fatalistic novels of Leo Tolstoy. Chekhov was to be his favorite author: “In one short story he could describe an entire life. He had no need of the tomes that Leo Tolstoy wrote.”61 In 1993, as president of Russia, he spoke with literary critic Marietta Chudakova and her husband, Aleksandr Chudakov, who is a Chekhov scholar. Yeltsin led off with his thoughts on a Chekhov short story that neither of the Chudakovs was familiar with. When they got home, they found it in Chekhov’s collected works.62

In Confession on an Assigned Theme—a title suggestive of a student or employee who departs from the appointed ways and owns up to it—Yeltsin waxed more eloquent about being the ringleader (zavodila) behind group hijinks than about being the class monitor or an exemplary pupil. The text chronicles no fewer than eight pranks and acts of derring-do:

1. At age eleven, in third or fourth grade, he crawled under a fence and purloined two live RGD-33 hand grenades from an arms depot in a derelict church (the John the Baptist temple, it turns out), “to learn what was inside them.”

2. As a fifth grader, he goaded his class to jump out a second-floor window and hide in an outbuilding in the schoolyard.

3. Around that time, motivated by the anti-German emotions rampant during the war, he hammered phonograph needles bottom-up through the seat of a German-language teacher’s desk chair, exposing her to the sharp points.

4. In the springtime, he participated in races over slithery logs on the runoff-swollen Zyryanka River.

5. He led mêlées with fists and clubs and up to a hundred combatants.

6. In 1945 or 1946 (the timing is unclear), he raked his elementary-school homeroom teacher over the coals, before a packed auditorium at graduation from School No. 95, for tormenting the class.

7. In 1948, after ninth grade in the Pushkin School, he went AWOL for weeks in the forest with chums.

8. In 1949 he contested the school’s ruling that he repeat tenth grade after missing time recuperating from his backpack hike.63

And there unquestionably were others, as Yeltsin said to me in an interview. Sergei Molchanov has recounted how the two of them lit a sooty wood fire in a home steambath in their neighborhood; Sergei left for dinner, and Boris blacked out from inhaling the fumes.64

Three of the bravado incidents described by Yeltsin resulted in injury or illness: the thumb and index finger (and tip of the middle finger) of his left hand blown off by a grenade fuse (he hit it with a hammer while his partners in crime looked on from a safe distance), and surgery to stop the spread of gangrene; a broken, crooked nose from a fight; and three months in the hospital to cure typhoid fever from drinking impure water on the hike. In retrospect, many were death-defying feats. After all, the hand grenade could just as well have sprayed its hunks of steel into his skull as into his left hand. In a medical system with no antibiotics, one in five typhus patients dies, and unchecked gangrene can also be fatal. The scramble across the logs could have drowned the frisky boys. In the nose-breaking fight, he was whacked by a cart axle and thought he was done for—“But I came to, pulled myself together, and was carried home.”65 Molchanov saw smoke engulfing the steambath, ran back, and pulled Yeltsin unconscious into the open air—saving his friend’s life, he says. In Yeltsin’s account, four actions incurred disciplinary penalties at schooclass="underline" grades of 2 out of 5 on the day for going out the window; a reprimand for the phonograph needles; suspension of his elementary-school diploma for the graduation philippic; and the refusal to register him for tenth grade following his recovery from the typhoid infection.

These events follow a two-pronged logic. The river race and the trio ending in bodily harm (and the steambath fire as a marginal case) bespeak what we can term a testing script. Here Yeltsin willingly underwent the risks for no reason other than the thrill of it and to demonstrate his mettle—urges for which pubescent hormones were surely responsible in part. In the tests detailed in Confession, the adversary is nature or his compeers and he narrowly deflects crippling wounds or death. In the literally most stomach-churning test, Boris and schoolmates set out up the western foothills of the Urals, in scorching heat, to find the headwaters of the Yaiva River, a feeder of the Kama; they carried neither an accurate map nor provisions enough to last the trip. The sulphurous spring at the river’s source found, the lads traded their gear for a dinghy, roughed it and straggled aimlessly for a week, and floated in delirium downriver toward Berezniki. Yeltsin docked the boat beneath a railroad trestle before passing out. That and other footloose moments were more unsettling to his mother than to his father, maybe because Nikolai Yeltsin was so frequently away and she dreaded being left alone. As a friend of Klavdiya’s later years noted, since Nikolai was often gone, and since Boris was his mother’s defender upon Nikolai’s return, “A heavy burden was laid on Boris. He helped his mother out at this time but was always trying to get away, run off, vanish, cavort, even in his youngest years…. She would say [to me], ‘Why did he do such things, to get some kind of revenge?’ She was always asking this question.”66

The remaining stunts were juvenile protests against authority figures, with hormones as impetus and maybe politics as subtext. In this rebellion script, the lines are tidily drawn and have the schoolboy clashing with callous pedagogues and educational bureaucrats. The most glaring case of hooliganism, as drawn by Yeltsin, is the speech at his graduation from elementary school. He asked for the floor, spoke courteous words about several of his teachers, and then surprised the audience by lighting into his homeroom teacher as “not fit to be a teacher and a rearer of children.” “I went at her hammer and tongs,” giving examples of her insensitivity such as the requirement that boys and girls gather food scraps for her pet pig. “Fury, uproar—the whole event was sullied. The next day the teachers’ council sent for my father and told him my diploma was being canceled.”67 In Yeltsin’s retelling, the enemy mostly crumpled under the force of his salvos. The 2 grades were annulled; his diploma was reinstated and the obnoxious homeroom teacher retired; and he took his tenth-grade finals at the Pushkin School after completing four semesters of course work in two on home study (his pals were not given this privilege). Only the teacher of German, perforated though not seriously injured, did not cave. The crises roped in his father, not his mother, as enforcer of decorum; it was during the graduation ruckus, when Boris would have been fifteen (if his memoir account is correct), that Nikolai last tried to beat his son with a strap. And they gave Yeltsin his first contact with political actors. To resolve the dispute over his diploma, he did an end run around his new headmaster, Vasilii Zanin, to the municipal school directorate and then to the arbiter of all things in Berezniki, the Communist Party apparatus: “That was when I first came to know what the gorkom [city committee] of the party was.”68