In my pre-teens days (Russia in the 1990s), one of the most popular games among boys was Little Knives — nozhichki; or rather, it was a whole class of games, with many games within it.
The most common variety was called Lands.
A large circle is drawn with a knife in dry dirt and then divided into as many sectors as there are players. The sectors must be large enough for the players to be able to stand comfortably within their home sectors, their “lands.” Players take turns throwing the knife, so that it spins in the air, into a neighbor’s territory. Then, a line is drawn from the border of one sector to another, through the plane of the knife's blade.
The defending player chooses one of the two parts, and the other is given to the attacker. The winner erases the boundary between his "land" and the part he just captured, thus adding it to his territory.
If the player whose land is reduced chooses the part adjacent to the knife-thrower's land, and the captured land does not share borders with that of the invader, then at the next throw, the leading player must make a corridor to the captured section. If this throw is unsuccessful, the land captured by the previous one is returned to the original owner, and the turn passes on.
The player is eliminated from the game when the size of their land becomes so small that he cannot stand on it even on one foot (before the game, players agree on how long he’d need to stand: for ten seconds, or for the number of seconds that equals his age, etc.)
Most boys playing this game were older than me, and I don’t remember how they decided on the order of players — it must have been rock-paper-scissors. We kindergarten kids used counting rhymes: with every new word, a kid reciting the poem points to a new player, going clockwise, and the one who happens to be pointed at when the poem ends, is the one to start the game.
The most popular poem also had to do with a knife. The literal translation is, “A crescent appeared out of the fog / He took a knife out of his pocket / I will cut and I will hit / Either way, you are it1.” There were longer versions that varied from one neighborhood to another, always starting with “And on the next day / I will cut your daughter.2”
Many games of the Little Knives variety were about throwing the knife in specific ways — from the ground, when knife is folded at 90 degrees and stands upwardly on its blade and the handle; from waist or head height; from the open hand, or the wrist, or the elbow; and so on.
The rules of one such game, which was not played in our neighborhood, reads like pure poetry to me. It was called Life and consisted of a sequence of different, mandatory throws — it was used for practice and a kind of divination.
The first throw — the knife is held by the blade and must turn at least once in mid-air — is called Birth. If this first throw is unsuccessful, the player leaves the game — he failed to get born.
The rest of the game allows for multiple attempts. If the player doesn’t succeed, the turn moves to the next one.
There are 7 throws for Childhood. The knife is held by the handle at head’s height and is simply let go of so that it sticks into the ground vertically.
10 throws for School. The knife is held by the handle and thrown in a straight line (“a woman’s throw3”).
One throw for Getting a Passport.
Then, a player can choose to make two throws for Army or three throws of a different type for Navy. This stage was called I Serve the Soviet Union.
One throw for Job.
The Wedding throw must be made in 5 attempts or fewer. Depending on the results, the qualities of the wife are determined: “beautiful,” “okay,” “dumb,” “promiscuous,” or “Mashka-alkashka” — “Mashka the alcoholic.” If all 5 attempts fail, the player has to Serve the Soviet Union again.
Two throws for Children.
Seven for Old Age: from the left wrist to get to 40, from the left elbow to 50, and from the left shoulder to 60; then the same sequence on the right side — 70, 80, and 90 — and finally, one from the nose, to get to a hundred.
The final throw is called Death.
The player puts his palms together in front of himself, with the knife blade sandwiched between them, handle facing down. With an upward motion, the knife is thrown forward.
The first five attempts symbolize a wooden coffin: oak, pine, birch, linden, and aspen. All subsequent attempts are accompanied by derogatory epithets for the coffin's material, which opponents come up with: rotten, snot-covered, and the like.
There are no winners in Life.
Data Taboo: A machine learning researcher writes about culture at taboo.substack.com.
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Вышел месяц из тумана / Вынул ножик из кармана / Буду резать, буду бить / Всё равно тебе водить.
А на следующую ночь / Я зарежу твою дочь.
По-бабски.
Wow. What a weird, strange, darkly scented game... Shades of the American board games Risk and Life. Monopoly, even. Very meta. Historical echoes. The knife part seems crucially important, as it could be played with a stick or pencil instead... Did players ever get injured? What are its origins?
Wow, fantastic article. ♥️🗡️ A wonderful read.