The story is written in the form of a diary. Pechorin arrives in Pyatigorsk. There follows a description of bored people (fathers of families, young ladies, etc.) who came to the waters.

Pechorin goes to the source and meets Grushnitsky, whom he met in the active detachment. Grushnitsky is a dandy, “speaks quickly and pretentiously,” tries at every opportunity to “make an effect,” does not listen to his interlocutor, is busy only with himself. “Grushnitsky is reputed to be an excellent brave man... He waves his saber, shouts and rushes forward, closing his eyes,” wears a simple soldier’s overcoat. Grushnitsky tells Pechorin about the “water society,” adding that the only interesting people here is Princess Ligovskaya with her daughter Mary, but he is not familiar with them.

At this moment the Ligovskys pass by. Mary is unusually pretty and tastefully dressed.

She has "velvet eyes" long eyelashes. Pechorin witnesses a curious scene: Grushnitsky drops the glass he was drinking from onto the sand. mineral water, and cannot bend down to pick it up: his wounded leg is in the way. Mary raises the glass and gives it to Grushnitsky “with a body movement filled with inexpressible charm.”

Grushnitsky interprets this act as a sign of special favor, but Pechorin skeptically discourages him, although deep down he is a little jealous of Grushnitsky. A Russian doctor named Werner, “a skeptic and a materialist,” but a poet at heart, comes to Pechorin. He is ugly (one leg is shorter than the other, short, big head).

Werner and Pechorin understand each other perfectly. Werner says that the princess remembers Pechorin from St. Petersburg, and the princess is interested in Grushnitsky, confident that he was demoted to a soldier for a duel. A relative came to the Litovskys for treatment, whose description matches the appearance of Vera, the woman whom Pechorin once loved.

After lunch, Pechorin goes to the boulevard. A crowd of young people surrounds the Ligovskikhs.

Pechorin sees familiar officers, begins to tell them jokes and little by little lures the entire audience into his circle. The princess is left without the company of admirers and is angry with Pechorin.

In the following days, Pechorin continues to behave in the same spirit, even repurchasing the Persian carpet that Mary was going to buy. Grushnitsky tries in every way to get to know the princess and to please her, but Pechorin does not strive for this at all and assures Grushnitsky that Mary cannot have serious plans for Grushnitsky: she will fool him for a long time, and will marry a rich freak, while assuring Grushnitsky, that she still loves only him. Grushnitsky is madly in love and loses any remaining caution. Pechorin allows Grushnitsky to bother the princess, knowing that sooner or later he will bore her with his behavior. Grushnitsky even bought a ring and engraved Mary's name on it.

At the well (source) Pechorin meets Vera. She is married for the second time to a rich, lame old man, a distant relative of the Ligovskys.

Vera “respects him like a father, and will deceive him like a husband.” Pechorin decides to divert attention by “dragging after Mary” in order to be able to meet with Vera in the Ligovskys’ house. Having parted with Vera, Pechorin gallops into the mountains; on the way he comes across a noisy cavalcade of horsemen, ahead of which are Grushnitsky and Mary. Grushnitsky gives the princess the impression of a romantic hero, speaking tragically about his future. Pechorin decides to meet Mary and make her fall in love with him when she becomes completely bored with Grushnitsky. At a ball in a restaurant, Pechorin waltzes with Mary and asks her forgiveness for his past behavior. Saves her from the advances of a drunken “gentleman in a tailcoat.”

Mary's initial hostility towards Pechorin gives way to favor. As if by chance, Pechorin informs the princess that Grushnitsky is not a “romantic hero” at all, but a simple cadet. Pechorin is invited to visit the Ligovskys.

Throughout the evening he speaks mainly to Vera, pays little attention to Mary, and does not listen to her singing. She tries to prick his pride by being nice to Grushnitsky, but Pechorin already understands that his plan has begun to come true: very soon the princess will fall in love with him, and all he has to do is accurately calculate the details. Grushnitsky is sure that Mary is crazy about him, and behaves very stupidly. In fact, the princess is already mortally tired of him. Pechorin is fully aware that he does not need Mary, that he conquers her only in order to feel his power over her, that he is not capable of sincere feelings, that, having picked the “beautiful flower of a young, barely blossoming soul,” he will breathe its aroma and throws it away. Grushnitsky was promoted to officer.

He is happy and hopes to impress Mary with his new epaulettes, although Dr. Werner assures him that by changing his soldier’s overcoat to an officer’s uniform, he will cease to be an exception and will get lost in the crowd of the princess’s admirers. In the evening, on a walk in Proval, Pechorin jokes a lot at the expense of his acquaintances. Mary is frightened by his sarcasm and asks him not to slander her, it’s better to kill her right away. Pechorin says that since childhood he was credited with inclinations that he did not have. “I was modest - I was accused of guile: I became secretive. I felt good and evil deeply; no one caressed me, everyone insulted me: I became vindictive; I was gloomy, - other children were cheerful and talkative; I felt superior to them - they put me lower. I became envious.

I was ready to love the whole world, but no one understood me: and I learned to hate.” The princess admits that she has never loved before; after confession, Pechorina accuses herself of being cold towards him. Pechorin is bored: he has long known all the stages of female love by heart. Mary confides her heartfelt secrets to Vera, who is tormented by jealousy. Pechorin calms her down and promises to follow Vera and her husband to Kislovodsk. Grushnitsky puts on a new uniform. Incredibly dressed up, smelling of lipstick and perfume, he goes to Mary.

The princess rejects him. A hostile “gang” is formed against Pechorin, led by Grushnitsky, who spreads rumors around the city that Pechorin will marry Mary. Pechorin leaves for Kislovodsk and often sees Vera. Should romantic description the outskirts of Kislovodsk and Pechorin’s reasoning about women’s logic (i.e., the absence of logic).

Pechorin himself is not afraid of women, since he “understood their minor weaknesses.” The Ligovskys also come to Kislovodsk. On a horseback ride, while fording a mountain river, the princess becomes ill. Supporting her, Pechorin hugs and kisses her. Mary: “You either despise me or love me very much.” Confesses her love to him. Pechorin reacts coldly to this.

Pechorin annoys the men because he behaves arrogantly, and they decide to teach him a lesson - Grushnitsky will challenge Pechorin to a duel, and the dragoon captain, who will be a second, undertakes to arrange everything so that the pistols will not be loaded. Pechorin accidentally overhears their conversation and decides to take revenge on Grushnitsky. In the morning, Princess Mary again confesses her love to him and assures him that she will convince her family not to interfere with them. Pechorin replies that he does not love her. He knows that he is capable of much for the sake of a woman, except marriage (as a child, a fortune teller predicted his death from an evil wife). A magician comes to Kislovodsk, everything " water society"He goes to the show.

Pechorin spends the evening and night with Vera, who lives in the same house as the Ligovskys, on the floor above. Leaving, Pechorin looks out of Mary's window, he is grabbed by Grushnitsky and the dragoon captain, who were waiting in ambush at the fence.

Pechorin breaks free and runs home. The next morning, first there is a rumor about a night attack by the Circassians on the Ligovskys’ house, and then Grushnitsky publicly accuses Pechorin of being at Mary’s that night. Pechorin challenges Grushnitsky to a duel. Werner, Pechorin's second, with good reason suspects that only Grushnitsky's pistol will be loaded.

Pechorin decides to play to the end. The night before the duel, he thinks about death - he doesn’t feel sorry for dying, he’s bored with living. “Why did I live? For what purpose was I born?.. And, it’s true, it existed, and, it’s true, there was a high purpose for me, because I feel immense strength in my soul...

My love has not brought happiness to anyone... and maybe I will die tomorrow!.. And there will not be a single creature left on earth who would understand me completely...

Some will say: he was a kind fellow, others - a scoundrel. Both will be false.”

On the morning before the duel, he assures the doctor that he is ready for death: “Thinking about imminent and possible death, I think about only myself... From the storm of life I brought only a few ideas - and not a single feeling. For a long time I have been living not with my heart, but with my head, there are two people in me: one lives in the full sense of the word, the other thinks and judges him.” Pechorin invites Grushnitsky to shoot on a high cliff: the one who is wounded will fall down, the doctor will take out the bullet, and everyone will decide that the man simply fell and was killed. Grushnitsky, Pechorin and seconds rise to the top of the mountain. There follows a description of the magnificent landscape, the wild Caucasian nature, whose grandeur is contrasted with the vanity and abomination of the human world.

Yesterday I arrived in Pyatigorsk, rented an apartment on the edge of the city, on the highest place, at the foot of Mashuk: during a thunderstorm, the clouds will descend to my roof. Today at five o'clock in the morning, when I opened the window, my room was filled with the smell of flowers growing in a modest front garden. Branches of blossoming cherry trees look into my windows, and the wind sometimes strews my desk with their white petals. I have a wonderful view from three sides. To the west, the five-headed Beshtu turns blue, like “the last cloud of a scattered storm”; Mashuk rises to the north like a shaggy Persian hat and covers this entire part of the sky; It’s more fun to look to the east: below me, a clean, brand new town is colorful, healing springs are rustling, a multilingual crowd is noisy - and there, further, mountains are piled up like an amphitheater, ever bluer and foggier, and at the edge of the horizon stretches a silver chain of snowy peaks, starting with Kazbek and ending double-headed Elborus... It's fun to live in such a land! Some kind of gratifying feeling flowed through all my veins. The air is clean and fresh, like a child's kiss; the sun is bright, the sky is blue - what would seem to be more? – why are there passions, desires, regrets?.. However, it’s time. I’ll go to the Elizabethan spring: there, they say, the whole water community gathers in the morning.

* * *

Having descended into the middle of the city, I walked along the boulevard, where I met several sad groups slowly ascending the mountain; they were most of the family of steppe landowners; this could be immediately guessed from the worn, old-fashioned frock coats of the husbands and from the exquisite outfits of the wives and daughters; Apparently, they had already counted all the water youth, because they looked at me with tender curiosity: the St. Petersburg cut of the frock coat misled them, but, soon recognizing the army epaulettes, they turned away indignantly.

The wives of the local authorities, the mistresses of the waters, so to speak, were more supportive; they have lorgnettes, they pay less attention to the uniform, they are accustomed in the Caucasus to meet an ardent heart under a numbered button and an educated mind under a white cap. These ladies are very nice; and sweet for a long time! Every year their admirers are replaced by new ones, and this may be the secret of their tireless courtesy. Climbing along the narrow path to the Elizabeth Spring, I overtook a crowd of men, civilians and military, who, as I learned later, constitute a special class of people among those waiting for the movement of water. They drink - but not water, they walk a little, they drag around only in passing; they play and complain about boredom. They are dandies: lowering their braided glass into a well of sour sulfur water, they take on academic poses: civilians wear light blue ties, military men let out ruffles from behind their collars. They profess deep contempt for provincial houses and sigh for the aristocratic drawing rooms of the capital, where they are not allowed.

Finally, here is the well... On the site near it there is a house with a red roof over the bathtub, and further away there is a gallery where people walk during the rain. Several wounded officers sat on a bench, picking up their crutches, pale and sad. Several ladies walked quickly back and forth across the site, waiting for the action of the waters. Between them were two or three pretty faces. Under the grape alleys covering the slope of Mashuk, sometimes the colorful hats of lovers of solitude together flashed, because I always noticed next to such a hat or military cap or an ugly round hat. On the steep cliff where the pavilion, called the Aeolian Harp, was built, view-seekers stood and pointed their telescopes at Elborus; between them there were two tutors with their pupils, who had come to be treated for scrofula.

I stopped, out of breath, on the edge of the mountain and, leaning against the corner of the house, began to examine the surroundings, when suddenly I heard a familiar voice behind me:

- Pechorin! how long have you been here?

I turn around: Grushnitsky! We hugged. I met him in the active detachment. He was wounded by a bullet in the leg and went to the waters a week before me. Grushnitsky - cadet. He has only been in the service for a year, and wears, out of a special kind of dandyism, a thick soldier’s overcoat. He has a soldier's cross of St. George. He is well built, dark and black-haired; he looks like he might be twenty-five years old, although he is hardly twenty-one. He throws his head back when he speaks, and constantly twirls his mustache with his left hand, because he leans on a crutch with his right. He speaks quickly and pretentiously: he is one of those people who have ready-made pompous phrases for all occasions, who are not touched by simply beautiful things and who are solemnly draped in extraordinary feelings, sublime passions and exceptional suffering. To produce an effect is their delight; Romantic provincial women like them crazy. In old age they become either peaceful landowners or drunkards - sometimes both. There are often many good qualities in their souls, but not a penny of poetry. Grushnitsky had a passion for declaiming: he bombarded you with words as soon as the conversation left the circle of ordinary concepts; I could never argue with him. He doesn't respond to your objections, he doesn't listen to you. As soon as you stop, he begins a long tirade, apparently having some connection with what you said, but which in fact is only a continuation of his own speech.

He is quite sharp: his epigrams are often funny, but they are never pointed or evil: he will not kill anyone with one word; he does not know people and their weak strings, because his whole life he has been focused on himself. His goal is to become the hero of a novel. He tried so often to convince others that he was a being not created for the world, doomed to some kind of secret suffering, that he himself was almost convinced of it. That’s why he wears his thick soldier’s overcoat so proudly. I understood him, and he doesn’t love me for this, although outwardly we are on the most friendly terms. Grushnitsky is reputed to be an excellent brave man; I saw him in action; he waves his saber, shouts and rushes forward, closing his eyes. This is something not Russian courage!..

I don’t like him either: I feel that someday we will collide with him on a narrow road, and one of us will be in trouble. His arrival in the Caucasus is also a consequence of his romantic fanaticism: I am sure that on the eve of leaving his father’s village he said with a gloomy look to some pretty neighbor that he was not going just to serve, but that he was looking for death, because... here , he probably covered his eyes with his hand and continued like this: “No, you (or you) shouldn’t know this! Yours a pure soul will shudder! And why? What am I to you! Will you understand me? - and so on.

He himself told me that the reason that prompted him to join the K. regiment would remain an eternal secret between him and heaven.

However, in those moments when he casts off his tragic mantle, Grushnitsky is quite sweet and funny. I’m curious to see him with women: that’s where I think he’s trying!

We met as old friends. I began to ask him about the way of life on the waters and about remarkable persons.

“We lead a rather prosaic life,” he said, sighing, “those who drink water in the morning are lethargic, like all the sick, and those who drink wine in the evening are unbearable, like all the healthy people.” There are women's societies; Their only small consolation is that they play whist, dress badly and speak terrible French. This year only Princess Ligovskaya and her daughter are from Moscow; but I'm unfamiliar with them. My soldier's overcoat is like a seal of rejection. The participation it excites is as heavy as alms.

At that moment two ladies walked past us to the well: one was elderly, the other was young and slender. I couldn’t see their faces behind their hats, but they were dressed according to strict rules better taste: nothing extra! The second wore a closed gris de perles dress, a light silk scarf curled around her flexible neck.

“You are embittered against the entire human race.”

- And there is a reason...

- ABOUT! right?

At this time, the ladies moved away from the well and caught up with us. Grushnitsky managed to assume a dramatic pose with the help of a crutch and answered me loudly in French:

– Mon cher, je hais les hommes pour ne pas les mepriser car autrement la vie serait une farce trop degoutante.

The pretty princess turned around and gave the speaker a long, curious look. The expression of this gaze was very vague, but not mocking, for which I inwardly congratulated him from the bottom of my heart.

“This Princess Mary is very pretty,” I told him. - She has such velvet eyes - just velvet: I advise you to assign this expression when talking about her eyes; the lower and upper eyelashes are so long that the rays of the sun are not reflected in her pupils. I love those eyes without shine: they are so soft, they seem to caress you... However, it seems that there is only good in her face... And what, are her teeth white? It is very important! It’s a pity that she didn’t smile at your pompous phrase.

“You talk about a pretty woman like an English horse,” Grushnitsky said indignantly.

“Mon cher,” I answered him, trying to imitate his tone, “je meprise les femmes pour ne pas les aimer car autrement la vie serait un melodrame trop ridicule.”

I turned and walked away from him. For half an hour I walked along the grape alleys, along the limestone rocks and bushes hanging between them. It was getting hot, and I hurried home. Passing by a sour-sulfur spring, I stopped at a covered gallery to breathe under its shade; this gave me the opportunity to witness a rather curious scene. Characters This is the situation they were in. The princess and the Moscow dandy were sitting on a bench in the covered gallery, and both were apparently engaged in a serious conversation.

The princess, having probably finished her last glass, walked thoughtfully by the well. Grushnitsky stood right next to the well; there was no one else on the site.

I came closer and hid behind the corner of the gallery. At that moment Grushnitsky dropped his glass on the sand and tried to bend down to pick it up: his bad leg was preventing him. Beggar! how he managed to lean on a crutch, and all in vain. His expressive face actually depicted suffering.

Princess Mary saw all this better than me.

Lighter than a bird, she jumped up to him, bent down, picked up the glass and handed it to him with a body movement filled with inexpressible charm; then she blushed terribly, looked back at the gallery and, making sure that her mother had not seen anything, seemed to immediately calm down. When Grushnitsky opened his mouth to thank her, she was already far away. A minute later she left the gallery with her mother and the dandy, but, passing by Grushnitsky, she assumed such a decorous and important appearance - she didn’t even turn around, didn’t even notice his passionate gaze, with which he followed her for a long time, until, having descended from the mountain, she disappeared behind the sticky boulevards... But then her hat flashed across the street; she ran into the gates of one of the best houses in Pyatigorsk, the princess followed her and bowed to Raevich at the gate.

Only then did the poor cadet notice my presence.

- You've seen? - he said, shaking my hand tightly, - he’s just an angel!

- From what? – I asked with an air of pure innocence.

-Didn't you see?

- No, I saw her: she raised your glass. If there had been a watchman here, he would have done the same thing, and even faster, hoping to get some vodka. However, it is very clear that she felt sorry for you: you made such a terrible grimace when you stepped on your shot leg...

“And you weren’t at all moved, looking at her at that moment, when her soul was shining on her face?..

I lied; but I wanted to annoy him. I have an innate passion for contradiction; my whole life was just a chain of sad and unsuccessful contradictions to my heart or reason. The presence of an enthusiast fills me with a baptismal chill, and I think frequent intercourse with a sluggish phlegmatic would make me a passionate dreamer. I also admit that an unpleasant, but familiar feeling ran slightly through my heart at that moment; this feeling was envy; I boldly say “envy” because I’m used to admitting everything to myself; and it is unlikely that there will be a young man who, having met a pretty woman who has attracted his idle attention and suddenly clearly distinguishes in his presence another who is equally unknown to her, it is unlikely, I say, that there will be such a young man (of course, he has lived in great society and is accustomed to pampering his vanity ), who would not be unpleasantly surprised by this.

Silently, Grushnitsky and I descended the mountain and walked along the boulevard, past the windows of the house where our beauty had disappeared. She was sitting by the window. Grushnitsky, tugging at my hand, cast one of those dimly tender glances at her that have so little effect on women. I pointed the lorgnette at her and noticed that she smiled at his gaze, and that my impudent lorgnette had seriously angered her. And how, in fact, dare a Caucasian army soldier point a glass at a Moscow princess?..

This morning the doctor came to see me; his name is Werner, but he is Russian. What's surprising? I knew one Ivanov, who was German.

Werner is a wonderful person for many reasons. He is a skeptic and a materialist, like almost all doctors, and at the same time a poet, and in earnest - a poet in practice always and often in words, although he never wrote two poems in his life. He studied all the living strings of the human heart, as one studies the veins of a corpse, but he never knew how to use his knowledge; so sometimes an excellent anatomist does not know how to cure a fever! Usually Werner secretly mocked his patients; but I once saw him cry over a dying soldier... He was poor, dreamed of millions, and would not take an extra step for money: he once told me that he would rather do a favor for an enemy than for a friend, because that would mean selling his charity, while hatred will only increase in proportion to the generosity of the enemy. He had evil tongue: under the guise of his epigram, more than one good-natured person became known as a vulgar fool; his rivals, envious water doctors, spread a rumor that he was drawing caricatures of his patients - the patients became enraged, almost everyone refused him. His friends, that is, all truly decent people who served in the Caucasus, tried in vain to restore his fallen credit.

His appearance was one of those that at first glance strikes you unpleasantly, but which you later like when the eye learns to read in the irregular features the imprint of a proven and lofty soul. There have been examples that women fell madly in love with such people and would not exchange their ugliness for the beauty of the freshest and pinkest endymions; we must give justice to women: they have an instinct for spiritual beauty: that is perhaps why people like Werner love women so passionately.

Werner was short, thin, and weak, like a child; one of his legs was shorter than the other, like Byron; in comparison with his body, his head seemed huge: he cut his hair into a comb, and the irregularities of his skull, discovered in this way, would strike a phrenologist as a strange tangle of opposing inclinations. His small black eyes, always restless, tried to penetrate your thoughts. Taste and neatness were noticeable in his clothes; his thin, wiry and small hands showed off in light yellow gloves. His coat, tie and vest were always black. The youth nicknamed him Mephistopheles; he showed that he was angry for this nickname, but in fact it flattered his vanity. We soon understood each other and became friends, because I am incapable of friendship: of two friends, one is always the slave of the other, although often neither of them admits this to himself; I cannot be a slave, and in this case commanding is tedious work, because at the same time I must deceive; and besides, I have lackeys and money! This is how we became friends: I met Werner in S... among a large and noisy circle of young people; At the end of the evening the conversation took a philosophical and metaphysical direction; They talked about beliefs: everyone was convinced of different things.

“As for me, I am convinced of only one thing...” said the doctor.

-What is it? – I asked, wanting to know the opinion of the person who had been silent until now.

“The fact,” he answered, “is that sooner or later one fine morning I will die.”

“I’m richer than you,” I said, “besides this, I also have a conviction - namely, that I had the misfortune of being born one disgusting evening.”

Everyone thought that we were talking nonsense, but, really, none of them said anything smarter than that. From that moment on, we recognized each other in the crowd. We often got together and talked about abstract subjects very seriously, until we both noticed that we were fooling each other. Then, having looked significantly into each other’s eyes, as the Roman augurs did, according to Cicero, we began to laugh and, having laughed, dispersed satisfied with our evening.

I was lying on the sofa, my eyes fixed on the ceiling and my hands behind my head, when Werner came into my room. He sat down in an armchair, put his cane in the corner, yawned and announced that it was getting hot outside. I answered that the flies were bothering me, and we both fell silent.

“Notice, dear doctor,” I said, “that without fools the world would be very boring!.. Look, here are two of us smart people; we know in advance that everything can be argued about endlessly, and therefore we do not argue; we know almost everything innermost thoughts each other; one word for us whole story; We see the grain of each of our feelings through a triple shell. Sad things are funny to us, funny things are sad, but in general, to be honest, we are quite indifferent to everything except ourselves. So, there cannot be an exchange of feelings and thoughts between us: we know everything we want to know about the other, and we don’t want to know anymore. There is only one remedy left: telling the news. Tell me some news.

Tired of the long speech, I closed my eyes and yawned...

He answered after thinking:

- There is, however, an idea in your nonsense.

- Two! - I answered.

– Tell me one, I’ll tell you another.

- Okay, start! – I said, continuing to look at the ceiling and smiling internally.

“You want to know some details about someone who came to the waters, and I can already guess who you’re concerned about, because they’ve already asked about you there.”

- Doctor! We absolutely cannot talk: we read each other’s souls.

- Now it’s different...

– Another idea: I wanted to force you to tell something; firstly, because such smart people people like you love listeners better than storytellers. Now to the point: what did Princess Ligovskaya tell you about me?

– Are you very sure that this is a princess... and not a princess?..

- I am absolutely convinced.

- Why?

- Because the princess asked about Grushnitsky.

-You have a great gift for consideration. The princess said that she was sure that this young man in a soldier's overcoat had been demoted to the ranks of soldiers for the duel.

- I hope you left her in this pleasant delusion...

- Of course.

- There is a connection! – I shouted in admiration. “We’ll take care of the denouement of this comedy.” Clearly fate is making sure that I don’t get bored.

“I have a presentiment,” said the doctor, “that poor Grushnitsky will be your victim...

“The princess said that your face is familiar to her.” I noticed to her that she must have met you in St. Petersburg, somewhere in the world... I said your name... She knew it. It seems that your story made a lot of noise there... The princess began to talk about your adventures, probably adding her comments to the social gossip... The daughter listened with curiosity. In her imagination, you became the hero of a novel in a new style... I did not contradict the princess, although I knew that she was talking nonsense.

- Worthy friend! - I said, holding out my hand to him.

The doctor shook it with feeling and continued:

- If you want, I will introduce you...

- Have mercy! - I said, clasping my hands, - do they represent heroes? They meet in no other way than by saving their beloved from certain death...

– And you really want to drag yourself after the princess?..

“On the contrary, quite the opposite!.. Doctor, finally I triumph: you don’t understand me!.. This, however, upsets me, doctor,” I continued after a minute of silence, “I never reveal my secrets myself, but I love terribly, so that they can guess them, because in this way I can always get rid of them on occasion. However, you must describe to me the mother and daughter. What kind of people are they?

“Firstly, the princess is a woman of forty-five years old,” answered Werner, “she has a wonderful stomach, but her blood is spoiled; there are red spots on the cheeks. She spent the last half of her life in Moscow and here she gained weight in retirement. She loves seductive jokes and sometimes says indecent things herself when her daughter is not in the room. She told me that her daughter was as innocent as a dove. What do I care?.. I wanted to answer her so that she would be calm, that I wouldn’t tell anyone this! The princess is being treated for rheumatism, and God knows what her daughter is suffering from; I ordered both of them to drink two glasses a day of sour sulfur water and bathe twice a week in a diluted bath. The princess, it seems, is not used to commanding; she has respect for the intelligence and knowledge of her daughter, who has read Byron in English and knows algebra: in Moscow, apparently, the young ladies have embarked on learning, and they are doing well, really! Our men are so not amiable in general that flirting with them must be for the sake of smart woman unbearable. The princess loves young people very much: the princess looks at them with some contempt: a Moscow habit! In Moscow they only feed on forty-year-old wits.

– Have you been to Moscow, doctor?

– Yes, I had some practice there.

- Continue.

- Yes, I think I said everything... Yes! here’s another thing: the princess seems to like to talk about feelings, passions, and so on... she was in St. Petersburg one winter, and she didn’t like it, especially the company: she was probably received coldly.

-Have you seen anyone there today?

- Against; there was one adjutant, one tense guardsman and some lady from the newcomers, a relative of the princess by marriage, very pretty, but, it seems, very sick... Didn’t you meet her at the well? - she is of average height, blonde, with regular features, consumptive complexion, and a black mole on her right cheek; her face struck me with its expressiveness.

- Mole! – I muttered through clenched teeth. - Really?

The doctor looked at me and said solemnly, placing his hand on my heart:

– She is familiar to you!.. – My heart seemed to beat stronger than usual.

– Now it’s your turn to celebrate! - I said, - I only hope for you: you will not betray me. I haven’t seen her yet, but I’m sure I recognize in your portrait a woman whom I loved in the old days... Don’t say a word to her about me; if she asks, treat me badly.

- Perhaps! – said Werner, shrugging his shoulders.

When he left, a terrible sadness oppressed my heart. Did fate bring us together again in the Caucasus, or did she come here on purpose, knowing that she would meet me?.. and how will we meet?.. and then, is it her?.. My premonitions have never deceived me. There is no person in the world over whom the past would acquire such power as it does over me: every reminder of past sadness or joy painfully strikes my soul and draws out the same sounds from it... I am a stupid creature: I don’t forget anything - nothing!

After lunch, at about six o'clock, I went to the boulevard: there was a crowd there; The princess and princess were sitting on a bench, surrounded by young people who were vying with each other to be kind. I positioned myself at some distance on another bench, stopped two officers I knew D... and began to tell them something; Apparently it was funny, because they started laughing like crazy. Curiosity attracted some of those around the princess to me; Little by little, everyone left her and joined my circle. I did not stop: my jokes were smart to the point of stupidity, my ridicule of the originals passing by was angry to the point of fury... I continued to amuse the audience until the sun set. Several times the princess passed me arm in arm with her mother, accompanied by some lame old man; several times her gaze, falling on me, expressed annoyance, trying to express indifference...

-What did he tell you? - she asked one of the young people who returned to her out of politeness, - true, very entertaining story– her exploits in battles?.. – She said this quite loudly and, probably, with the intention of stabbing me. “A-ha! – I thought, “you are seriously angry, dear princess; wait, there will be more!”

The novel was written in 1839-1840. Lermontov began working on it based on the impressions of his first exile to the Caucasus, in 1839. In the magazine “ Domestic notes"under the heading "Notes of an officer in the Caucasus" two stories were published - "Bela" and "Fatalist", in 1840. - “Taman”. In April 1840 The novel was published in full, two more chapters were added to it - “Maxim Maksi-mych” and “Princess Mary”. The arrangement of the chapters did not correspond to the order of publication in the journal. The preface to the entire novel appeared only in the second edition of 1841, this was the author’s response to criticism.

Preface

The novel begins with a preface explaining the purpose of the essay: readers are indignant that they are given an example of such an immoral person as Pechorin. But the novel is not a portrait of one person, but a portrait of all the vices of a generation in their development. There is more truth in Pechorin than readers would like, so they do not believe in him. The reader has been fed sweets for too long, but needs bitter medicine, caustic truths. The author points out a disease of society, but God knows how to cure it!
Events take place during the conquest of the Caucasus.

Part 1.BELA

In the chapter “Bela,” the narrator-officer talks about how, on the way from Tiflis, he met staff captain Maxim Maksimych. Because of a snowstorm, they stop for a forced overnight stay in a hut, the captain tells his fellow traveler about Pechorin. Grigory Pechorin was then twenty-five years old, and the staff captain was the commandant of the guard fortress. Pechorin, according to Maxim Maksimych, was a nice fellow, although strange, he did not take care of himself. They lived on friendly terms for about a year, during which Pechorin caused trouble. Not far from their fortress lived a prince. His son Azamat often came to them, they spoiled him, but the boy was too greedy for money. One day the prince invited them to a wedding eldest daughter, and there she sang a compliment to Pechorin youngest daughter, Bela. She was pretty, and Pechorin and the gloomy Kazbich, an acquaintance of the staff captain with the appearance of a robber, admired her. This time he was wearing chain mail under a beshmet. Maxim Maksimych thought that he was planning something. Coming out of the stuffiness into the street, he hears that Azamat likes Kazbich’s horse. The owner praises his horse, which has saved him more than once, and calls him comrade. Azamat says that he would give a herd of a thousand mares for him, but Kazbich doesn’t want to. Azamat cannot get his way and offers to steal his sister Bela for him. Kazbich laughs, he is tired of Azamat, and he impatiently drives him away. Azamat rushes at him with a dagger. Kazbich pushes him away, Azamat shouts that Kazbich wanted to stab him. Kazbich slipped away. Maxim Maksimych recalls that the devil pulled him to tell this to Pechorin: he laughed and thought of something. Under Azamat, he constantly talked about Kazbich’s horse, promising to deliver it in exchange for Bela. In the absence of his father, Azamat took his sister away, and when Kazbich brought sheep to sell, with the help of Pechorin, he took away his horse Karagez. Kazbich killed his father in revenge. Pechorin tamed the timid beauty Bela, the Circassian girl fell in love with him, got used to the fact that she belonged to him, but soon he became bored with her. Pechorin said that not a single woman loved him like that; the captain got used to her as a daughter. One day he found her sad: Grigory Alexandrovich went hunting yesterday and did not return. Bela accepts the advice not to keep it near her skirt and to be cheerful, but cannot follow it. Kazbich arrives on Bela’s father’s horse, and a sentry shoots at him. Maxim Maksimych expresses concern to the returning Pechorin. Pechorin caresses Bela less and less, and then, when the friends leave to hunt a boar, the girl becomes the prey of Kazbich, who hits her with a dagger and runs away. Bela suffered for two days, then died, deliriously speaking about her love for Pechorin. Maxim Maksimych says that it is good that she died: otherwise Pechorin would have abandoned her sooner or later, but she would not have endured it. They didn’t talk to him about Bel anymore. Then Pechorin left for Georgia.

2. MAXIM MAKSIMYCH

The fellow travelers parted, but met again a few days later. Unexpectedly, Maxim Maksimych meets Pechorin, who has retired and is heading to Persia. He lets Pechorin know about himself, but Pechorin is in no hurry. Frustrated, Maxim Maksimych tossed and turned all night. When Pechorin arrived, the narrator told his fellow traveler about this. The narrator draws us a portrait of Pechorin, sees in him a sign of his breed: he has a face that women like, he is of average height, slender, and cleanly dressed. The absence of gestures indicates a secretive character. Pechorin's eyes do not laugh, his gaze is cold, penetrating and heavy. Pechorin is already getting ready to leave, Maxim Maksimych barely has time to come running. But Pechorin does not stay for a minute, no matter how much his old enemy begs him. Maxim Maksimych gives the papers to the author.

Pechorin's journal. Preface

After Pechorin's death (he died returning from Persia), the author publishes Pechorin's journal with a preface. In it, he explains the reasons for the publication: he was convinced of the sincerity of Pechorin, who exposed his vices. This story human soul, written without vanity, seems to him more useful than the history of the entire people. He cites passages relating to Pechorin’s stay in the Caucasus.

1. TAMAN

In the chapter "Taman" Pechorin appears as a hunter of dangerous adventures. At night he arrives in the city and suspects that the blind boy with whom he spends the night is not so simple. He tracks him down, sees that the blind man has met a girl and they are waiting on the shore for some Yanko. Pechorin is convinced that Yanko has brought some bundles, and during the day he tries to find out from the boy what it is. He recognizes that girl by her voice, she flirts with him, he says that she was on the shore at night. Soon she comes to him and suddenly kisses him. In the evening he goes to the pier, telling the Cossack to rush to him if he shoots. A girl meets him, they are sailing on a boat, the girl takes away the pistol and tries to push him, who cannot swim, into the water, fearing that he will report about the knots. Instead of eFogo, Pechorin threw her into the waves. She swam out and left with Yanko forever, since the smuggled goods he brought had become a dangerous business. The blind man stole Pechorin's things and gave them to Yanko. It turned out that the boy robbed the hero, and the girl almost drowned. He disturbed the calm honest smugglers, almost getting hurt himself. In the morning Pechorin left Taman.

Part 2. (End of Pechorin's journal)

2. PRINCESS MARY

The chapter “Princess Mary” is Pechorin’s story about a meeting in Pyatigorsk with the romantic cadet Grushnitsky. Pechorin characterizes him as a rather sharp, kind person, but one who flaunts his suffering. He says that he figured it out and if they meet on a narrow path, Grushnitsky will be in trouble. He drew attention to the young girl, Princess Mary of Lithuania, dropped the glass on purpose and ostentatiously tried to get it, Mary helped him and ran away. Pechorin tells him that he was not touched by Mary’s participation, he is jealous because he is sure that everything should belong only to him, he speaks of Mary (according to Grushnitsky) as an English horse. Pechorin wants to piss off the cadet only because of his passion to contradict.

He meets Doctor Werner, a malicious-tongued skeptic by nature, whom the youth nicknamed Mephistopheles. They got along great. Werner said that Mary thinks that Grushnitsky was demoted as a soldier for the duel. Werner understands that Grushnitsky will be a victim of Pechorin, says that he told about him and Mary became interested, now she sees him as the hero of the novel. Werner characterizes the Ligovsky mother and daughter for him. Pechorin learns from him by description that the woman he loved before, Vera, came to the waters. She married a relative of the Ligovskys. Pechorin asks Werner not to talk about him or speak badly about him. Sadness took possession of him, the past has great power over him, he has not forgotten anything. Pechorin quickly achieves the princess's hatred: it seems strange that he avoids making acquaintance. He buys the carpet from under her nose. Mary preaches a militia against Pechorin in society. He tells Grushnitsky that the princess is probably in love with him, but she is one of those who flirts a lot and in two years, out of obedience to her mother, will marry a freak. Grushnitsky is outraged. Soon a ring with the name Mary appears on his hand. Pechorin is waiting for her to choose him as her confidant and for him to enjoy himself.

Unexpectedly for himself, Pechorin meets Vera. She still loves him, but her husband watches her everywhere except in the Ligovskys' living room. They kiss, and Pechorin promises her to pursue Mary in order to divert the attention and suspicion of her husband. Pechorin argues in his journal that he no longer wants to love, but to be loved, but he has never been a slave to the woman he loves. He loved one woman with a strong will, but they parted as enemies; he does not like women with character. Vera again unconditionally trusts him, he is sure that they will part this time too, but the memory of her will always be in his soul. After the meeting, he mounted a horse and galloped mindlessly across the steppe, exhausting it. Suddenly emerging from behind a bush, he scares Mary and tells her that he is no more dangerous than Grushnitsky. Grushnitsky tells him that after this trick it will be difficult for him to enter their house, but Pechorin argues: if I want, tomorrow evening I will be at the princess’s and I will begin to drag after the princess. A week has passed, Vera wants to see him at the Ligovskys. He goes to the ball and dances with Mary, then protects her from the drunken captain, who vulgarly tries to invite the princess to a mazurka, saving her from fainting at the ball. In gratitude, the princess invites him to her place at any time. He tells Mary that she is surrounded by a crowd of admirers and that is why he did not want to meet her. She replies that they are all very boring, even Grushnitsky. Grushnitsky is madly in love. They go to the princess, Vera comes for them. She says that she needs to please the princess, thinks about her imminent death from consumption and asks to meet only here, wants to save her reputation. Pechorin says about Vera that she alone accepted him with all his minor weaknesses and bad passions.

Pechorin seduces the princess, not understanding why he is doing this: out of envy of Grushnitsky? Under the influence of passion, he is unable to act; ambition is suppressed by circumstances. Grushnitsky was promoted to official, Werner does not congratulate him, since now he will look not like an exception, but like general rule. He does not want to show himself to Mary until the uniform is ready. Society is heading towards failure under Mashuk. Pechorin slanders, Mary says that he is worse than a murderer. He notices that everyone saw bad traits in him - and they appeared, he became a moral cripple. With his words, he brings Mary to tears. He expects her to reward him tomorrow, and he is bored. Pechorin is increasingly attracted to the princess, she shares with Vera, who tells Pechorin that Mary is in love with him and is jealous, asks him to promise not to marry her, promising a night date alone. He rents an apartment next to the Ligovskys for a date. At the Ligovskys' party, he dances with Mary, she listens to him with tender attention, Vera is sad. Then Pechorin presents their story to the public with fictitious names, vividly depicting his tenderness, worries and delights. Vera perked up and sat closer. The company dispersed only at two o'clock in the morning.

Before the ball, Grushnitsky asks Pechorin if it is true that all these days He has been dragging after his princess? Pechorin thinks: is it really his purpose on earth to destroy other people's hopes? Mary is bored with Grushnitsky and is waiting for Pechorin. Grushnitsky is angry, and a hostile gang is formed against Pechorin. In the morning, Pechorin goes to Mary and asks if she is angry with him, asks for forgiveness, plays a role. Werner said that the whole city knows that Pechorin is marrying Mary. He refutes the rumor, says that he is leaving for Kislovodsk tomorrow. Werner warns him. In Kislovodsk, he sees Vera. Grushnitsky stops bowing to him, the princess is waiting for Pechorin to ask her for her daughter’s hand in marriage. On a horse ride, Mary felt dizzy, Pechorin held her and kissed her on the cheek: he was interested in her reaction. She demands to say, what he feels for her, asks if she should confess his love first? Pechorin says that there is no need. The next day, to the princess’s passionate speeches, he replies that he does not love her. He reasons in the magazine that sometimes he despises himself; he is incapable of noble impulses , is afraid to seem ridiculous to himself, but he values ​​​​freedom most of all, he has a fear of marriage; a fortune teller told his mother that he would die from an evil wife.

The famous magician and magician Apfelbaum comes to Kislovodsk. The whole city, except Mary and Vera, is there. Pechorin disappears from the performance, goes to Vera, and on the way back he sees Mary in the window. Grushnitsky and the dragoon track him down in the Litovsky garden and think that he is going on a date with Mary and make a fuss. Pechorin breaks free, goes to his room and pretends to be asleep. Grushnitsky spreads rumors about the princess, says that Pechorin was under the window. Pechorin challenges him to a duel. Werner and dragoon are seconds. Before the duel, Pechorin ponders: why was he born and lived, what is his purpose? He was an instrument of execution for doomed victims, his love did not bring happiness to anyone. He loved only for himself and could not get enough. Maybe tomorrow he will die, and there is no being who would understand him. Some say he is a kind fellow, others say he is a scoundrel. He's funny and annoyed. He rejoices in the morning that Werner offers a truce, but Grushnitsky refuses, he does not want to apologize. Pechorin says that it is better to shoot on the edge of a cliff, then even a minor injury will result in a fall into the abyss.

On the advice of the dragoon, Grushnitsky suggests shooting “at six steps” without loading the pistols. Pechorin first wants to test him by providing all the benefits - what if generosity awakens in him? Werner hurries him to say that they know the truth, and Pechorin tells him that maybe he wants to be killed. But Grushnitsky’s plan is dying. Pechorin advises him to pray and asks if his conscience is telling him anything. He calls the doctor and says that the gentlemen forgot to put a bullet in his gun. Dragoon says that it probably rolled out, and he will not change the pistol. Grushnitsky contradicts him. After his unsuccessful shot, Pechorin again offers peace, but Grushnitsky says that if he doesn’t kill him, he will stab him from around the corner. Pechorin kills. The murder of Grushnitsky is attributed to the Circassians. Vera is taken away by her husband; she was so worried when she found out about the duel that she confessed to her husband that she loved Pechorin. Pechorin reads her farewell note and gallops after her, driving his horse. He realizes that Vera is dearer to him than anything in the world, but he cannot catch up with her. Upon returning, he learns that Grushnitsky’s death has aroused suspicion and he will be sent to another place. He goes to the Lithuanians to say goodbye. The princess says that he saved her daughter from slander and invites him to marry Mary. But Pechorin, in a few minutes alone with Mary, makes her hate him as much as she was previously in love with him. He tells her that he laughed at her, which means she should despise him, but she cannot love him. An hour later he leaves, feeling that he could not live with such a lot.

3. FATALIST

In “Fatalist,” the final chapter of the novel, it is said that Pechorin spends two weeks in a Cossack village. Major V***'s company of officers is arguing about the fate of a person. They are discussing the Muslim belief that “the fate of a person is written in heaven.” Some people think this is nonsense, others are convinced that it is true. The major says there are no witnesses to this. Lieutenant Vulich, a Serb, stands up and offers to end the empty argument and try the evidence on him. He is a fatalist, according to Pechorin - a special creature, unable to share thoughts and passions with others. He says that if the hour of his death has not yet struck, then a pistol put to his forehead will not fire. Nobody wants to argue, only Pechorin agrees to the bet. Vulich puts a pistol to his forehead, and Pechorin sees the stamp of death on the lieutenant’s face and tells him that he will die today. The pistol misfires, and immediately Vulich shoots a second time, to the side. Everyone is arguing about why the pistol did not fire the first time. Pechorin notices that the lieutenant is lucky in the game, Vulich replies that this is the first time. Pechorin says that it still seemed to him that he should die today. Vulich gets embarrassed and flares up, leaving. Soon everyone else disperses. Pechorin walks through the alleys, firmly believing in predestination. He stumbles and sees a pig lying on the road, cut to pieces by a saber. People are looking for the drunken Cossack who was chasing her. Early in the morning, Pechorin was awakened by officers: Vulich was killed by that same Cossack. Maybe he wouldn’t have noticed him, but Vulich asked: “Who are you looking for, brother?” The Cossack replied that he was, and cut him from the shoulder to the heart. Vulich said before his death: “He’s right.” These words referred to Pechorin, who involuntarily read his fate.

The killer locked himself in the house and did not want to come out. Pechorin decided to try his fate, like Vulich. The Cossack was distracted towards the door, and Pechorin rushed towards him through the window. The Cossack fired back, but Pechorin grabbed his hands, and the Cossacks tied him up. Grigory Alexandrovich was not even wounded. After this it was possible to become a fatalist, but Pechorin likes to doubt everything. Maxim Maksimych, to whom he tells this story, at first does not understand the definition of fatalism, then he says that pistols and rifles often misfire. Later he adds that it’s a pity for the poor fellow, apparently it was written that way. Pechorin got nothing more from him; Maxim Maksimych was not a fan of metaphysical debates.

About “A Hero of Our Time” is a socio-psychological novel. The hero is shown through the perception of his contemporaries, Werner being closest to him. We can also judge Pechorin from his diary. The chapters are not chronological, but the novel has a circular composition, and this allows the hero to be revealed to the reader gradually. Through the fate of his hero, wise but devoid of faith, the author shows the dramatic nature of the romantic’s worldview; his life turns into torture due to selfishness, and the hero never finds meaning in it. His duality splits his inner self, which causes pain to Pechorin himself and those around him.

The chapter “Princess Mary” is part of the novel “A Hero of Our Time”. It is a diary in which Pechorin describes his acquaintance with Princess Ligovskaya and her daughter Mary. Pechorin falls in love with an inexperienced girl. He also kills Grushnitsky in a duel, and Mary is disappointed in love.

The main idea of ​​the chapter “Princess Mary” is that Lermontov shows the originality and originality of Pechorin’s personality. He is an independent and interesting person. IN different situations he is at his best, but this does not bring him moral satisfaction.

Very briefly

Pechorin is a handsome, thoroughbred young man, but already with great experience. He is no longer a young guy, but a fairly old man.

Pechorin goes to Pyatigorsk, as this place is famous for its hospitals and very healing waters. In general, he is a person who plays his whole life on his own and other feelings. In Pyatigorsk he meets his friend Grushnitsky. This guy is famous for his narcissism and selfishness. Pechorin constantly mocks him. Now he decides, partly out of boredom, partly to annoy Grushnitsky, to make a girl, Princess Mary, fall in love with him. Princess Ligovskaya and her daughter, Princess Mary, are relaxing on the waters.

Mary is a proud, smart girl, but very young. That is why she easily falls for Pechorin, who is happy to try. He comes up with various cunning plans because he knows the nature of people. At first she is emphatically unapproachable, but then gradually gives in. She falls more and more in love with Pechorin, and immediately forgets her boyfriend, Grushnitsky. But Grushnitsky is also no slouch; he challenges Pechorin to a duel, which only pleases the cold nature of his opponent. Everything ends in tears. Grushnitsky was killed, and Pechorin in the end did not want to marry Mary.

And at this time, Vera, Pechorin’s secret lover, endures everything, and then suddenly leaves, as her husband finds out about everything. Pechorin is in despair, although this is strange, because he has never loved anyone.

Summary of the chapter Princess Mary from the story Hero of Our Time by Lermontov in detail

Princess Mary is the daughter of Ligovskaya, with whom Pechorin was brought together casual acquaintance. She is educated and smart. Pride and generosity lurk in her soul. The failed love with Pechorin for her is a deep tragedy.
Pechorin is bored and is looking for company for entertainment. Grushnitsky becomes such a person for him. Somehow, in his presence, Pechorin compares Mary to a horse. And Grushnitsky loves Mary, so Pechorin’s barbs are unpleasant to him.

Time is running, main character looks for new acquaintances and in the end Pechorin meets Dr. Werner, and the latter, by virtue of his insight, saw what could happen in the future between Pechorin and Grushnitsky. That is, how a fatalist predicted the death of one of his friends.

Then events take an unexpected turn: Mary’s sister Vera comes to Kislovodsk. The reader learns about the long-standing love between her and Pechorin. They say that old love does not rust. Feelings flare up again, but... Vera is married and cannot be a former lover, she cannot cheat on her husband. Therefore, Pechorin gets on his horse and gallops wherever his eyes look... Afterwards, he accidentally scares Mary, because the girl accidentally ends up in his way.

The following describes the ball at the Ligovskys. Pechorin gallantly looks after Mary. Further events happen in such a way that Pechorin began to visit the Ligovskys often. He is interested in Mary, but Vera is also important to him. And, probably, he visits the Ligovskikhs to see Vera. In the end, Vera says that she is sick with an incurable disease and asks that her reputation be treated sparingly. She is a married lady after all!

Then Pechorin takes care of Mary, and makes the naive fool fall in love with him. Vera sees that the matter will not lead to anything good and promises Pechorin a night date in exchange for him not hurting Mary. Meanwhile, Pechorin becomes bored in Mary’s company, he is burdened by her presence. He is burdened by her company.

Grushnitsky is jealous. He's furious. Mary confesses her feelings to Pechorin. But he runs into a cold wall of indifference. (This is all for show; no one should know that Pechorin is capable of emotions.) Grushnitsky is furious and challenges Pechorin to a duel. But... the ending is tragic. Juncker killed. At first, his death is not advertised and the culprit is not named.

After the duel, Pechorin felt very bad and sad. He reflects on himself.

Vera, knowing Pechorin, understands that Grushnitsky died at her hand ex-lover. And then she decides to confess everything to her husband. Her husband listens to her and takes her away from the epicenter of events.

Pechorin learns about Vera's departure, grabs his horse and tries to catch up with his ex-love. But the attempts remained in vain; Grigory Alexandrovich only drove the horse. And when he realized this, he fell headlong into the dust on the road and wept bitterly about the past.

Then Pechorin returns to Kislovodsk, where everyone is already talking about the recent duel. Since Pechorin is an officer, his action is assessed as unworthy and he is transferred to another duty station.

At the end he comes to the Ligovskys to say goodbye. In this scene, Mary’s mother invites Grigory Alexandrovich to marry her daughter, but... Pechorin proudly rejects this proposal.

To prevent Mary from tormenting herself with suffering, he humiliates her in a private conversation with her. He feels like a scoundrel, but he cannot do otherwise.

Picture or drawing of Princess Mary

Early 1890s. London. Over the course of two days, the action takes place in the chic classic Chilterns mansion and in the apartment of Lord Goring.

The story is written in the form of a diary.

Pechorin arrives in Pyatigorsk. There follows a description of bored people (fathers of families, young ladies, etc.) who came to the waters. Pechorin goes to the source and meets Grushnitsky, whom he met in the active detachment. Grushnitsky is a dandy, “speaks quickly and pretentiously,” tries at every opportunity to “make an effect,” does not listen to his interlocutor, is busy only with himself. “Grushnitsky is reputed to be an excellent brave man... He waves his saber, shouts and rushes forward, closing his eyes,” wears a simple soldier’s overcoat. Grushnitsky tells Pechorin about the “water society,” adding that the only interesting people here are Princess Ligovskaya and her daughter Mary, but he does not know them. At this moment the Ligovskys pass by. Mary is unusually pretty and tastefully dressed. She has “velvet eyes” and long eyelashes. Pechorin witnesses a curious scene: Grushnitsky drops the glass from which he drank mineral water onto the sand, and cannot bend down to pick it up: his wounded leg is in the way. Mary raises the glass and gives it to Grushnitsky “with a body movement filled with inexpressible charm.” Grushnitsky interprets this act as a sign of special favor, but Pechorin skeptically discourages him, although deep down he is a little jealous of Grushnitsky.

A Russian doctor named Werner, “a skeptic and a materialist,” but a poet at heart, comes to Pechorin. He is ugly (one leg is shorter than the other, short, big head). Werner and Pechorin understand each other perfectly. Werner says that the princess remembers Pechorin from St. Petersburg, and the princess is interested in Grushnitsky, confident that he was demoted to a soldier for a duel. A relative came to the Litovskys for treatment, whose description matches the appearance of Vera, the woman whom Pechorin once loved.

After lunch, Pechorin goes to the boulevard. A crowd of young people surrounds the Ligovskikhs. Pechorin sees familiar officers, begins to tell them jokes and little by little lures the entire audience into his circle. The princess is left without the company of admirers and is angry with Pechorin. In the following days, Pechorin continues to behave in the same spirit, even repurchasing the Persian carpet that Mary was going to buy. Grushnitsky tries in every way to get to know the princess and to please her, but Pechorin does not strive for this at all and assures Grushnitsky that Mary cannot have serious plans for Grushnitsky: she will fool him for a long time, and will marry a rich freak, while assuring Grushnitsky, that she still loves only him. Grushnitsky is madly in love and loses any remaining caution. Pechorin allows Grushnitsky to bother the princess, knowing that sooner or later he will bore her with his behavior. Grushnitsky even bought a ring and engraved Mary's name on it.

At the well (source) Pechorin meets Vera. She is married for the second time to a rich, lame old man, a distant relative of the Ligovskys. Vera “respects him like a father, and will deceive him like a husband.” Pechorin decides to divert attention by “dragging after Mary” in order to be able to meet with Vera in the Ligovskys’ house. Having parted with Vera, Pechorin gallops into the mountains; on the way he comes across a noisy cavalcade of horsemen, ahead of which are Grushnitsky and Mary. Grushnitsky gives the princess the impression of a romantic hero, speaking tragically about his future. Pechorin decides to meet Mary and make her fall in love with him when she becomes completely bored with Grushnitsky.

At a ball in a restaurant, Pechorin waltzes with Mary and asks her forgiveness for his past behavior. Saves her from the advances of a drunken “gentleman in a tailcoat.” Mary's initial hostility towards Pechorin gives way to favor. As if by chance, Pechorin informs the princess that Grushnitsky is not a “romantic hero” at all, but a simple cadet.

Pechorin is invited to visit the Ligovskys. Throughout the evening he speaks mainly to Vera, pays little attention to Mary, and does not listen to her singing. She tries to prick his pride by being nice to Grushnitsky, but Pechorin already understands that his plan has begun to come true: very soon the princess will fall in love with him, and all he has to do is accurately calculate the details. Grushnitsky is sure that Mary is crazy about him, and behaves very stupidly. In fact, the princess is already mortally tired of him. Pechorin is fully aware that he does not need Mary, that he conquers her only in order to feel his own over her, that he is not capable of sincere feelings, that, having picked the “beautiful flower of a young, barely blossoming soul,” he will breathe him aroma and throw it away.

Grushnitsky was promoted to officer. He is happy and hopes to impress Mary with his new epaulettes, although Dr. Werner assures him that by changing his soldier’s overcoat to an officer’s uniform, he will cease to be an exception and will get lost in the crowd of the princess’s admirers.

In the evening, on a walk in Proval, Pechorin jokes a lot at the expense of his acquaintances. Mary is frightened by his sarcasm and asks him not to slander her, it’s better to kill her right away. Pechorin says that since childhood he was credited with inclinations that he did not have. “I was modest - I was accused of guile: I became secretive. I felt good and evil deeply; no one caressed me, everyone insulted me: I became vindictive; I was gloomy, - other children were cheerful and talkative; I felt superior to them - they put me lower. I became envious. I was ready to love the whole world, but no one understood me: and I learned to hate.” The princess admits that she has never loved before; after confession, Pechorina accuses herself of being cold towards him. Pechorin is bored: he has long known all the stages of female love by heart.

Mary confides her heartfelt secrets to Vera, who is tormented by jealousy. Pechorin calms her down and promises to follow Vera and her husband to Kislovodsk.

Grushnitsky puts on a new uniform. Incredibly dressed up, smelling of lipstick and perfume, he goes to Mary. The princess rejects him. A hostile “gang” is formed against Pechorin, led by Grushnitsky, who spreads rumors around the city that Pechorin will marry Mary. Pechorin leaves for Kislovodsk and often sees Vera. What follows is a romantic description of the outskirts of Kislovodsk and Pechorin’s discussion of women’s logic (i.e., the absence of logic). Pechorin himself is not afraid of women, since he “understood their minor weaknesses.”

The Ligovskys also come to Kislovodsk. On a horseback ride, while fording a mountain river, the princess becomes ill. Supporting her, Pechorin hugs and kisses her. Mary: “You either despise me or love me very much.” Confesses her love to him. Pechorin reacts coldly to this.

Pechorin annoys the men because he behaves arrogantly, and they decide to teach him a lesson - Grushnitsky will challenge Pechorin to a duel, and the dragoon captain, who will be a second, undertakes to arrange everything so that the pistols will not be loaded. Pechorin accidentally overhears their conversation and decides to take revenge on Grushnitsky.

In the morning, Princess Mary again confesses her love to him and assures him that she will convince her family not to interfere with them. Pechorin replies that he does not love her. He knows that he is capable of much for the sake of a woman, except marriage (as a child, a fortune teller predicted his death from an evil wife).

A magician comes to Kislovodsk, the entire “water society” goes to the show. Pechorin spends the evening and night with Vera, who lives in the same house as the Ligovskys, on the floor above. Leaving, Pechorin looks out of Mary's window, he is grabbed by Grushnitsky and the dragoon captain, who were waiting in ambush at the fence. Pechorin breaks free and runs home. The next morning, first there is a rumor about a night attack by the Circassians on the Ligovskys’ house, and then Grushnitsky publicly accuses Pechorin of being at Mary’s that night. Pechorin challenges Grushnitsky to a duel. Werner, Pechorin's second, with good reason suspects that only Grushnitsky's pistol will be loaded. Pechorin decides to play to the end. The night before the duel, he thinks about death - he doesn’t feel sorry for dying, he’s bored with living. “Why did I live? For what purpose was I born?.. And, it’s true, it existed, and, it’s true, I had a high purpose, because I feel immense strength in my soul... My love did not bring happiness to anyone... and, maybe , I will die tomorrow!.. And there will not be a single creature left on earth who would understand me completely... Some will say: he was a kind fellow, others - a scoundrel. Both will be false.” On the morning before the duel, he assures the doctor that he is ready for death: “Thinking about imminent and possible death, I think about only myself... From the storm of life I brought only a few ideas - and not a single feeling. For a long time I have been living not with my heart, but with my head, there are two people in me: one lives in the full sense of the word, the other thinks and judges him.”