“Woe from Wit” by Griboyedov. –

Monakhov's benefit performance, November, 1871

The comedy “Woe from Wit” stands out somehow in literature and is distinguished by its youthfulness, freshness and stronger vitality from other works of the word. She is like a hundred-year-old old man, around whom everyone, having lived out their time in turn, dies and lies down, and he walks, vigorous and fresh, between the graves of old people and the cradles of new people. And it never occurs to anyone that someday his turn will come.

All celebrities of the first magnitude, of course, were not admitted to the so-called “temple of immortality” for nothing. They all have a lot, and others, like Pushkin, for example, have much more rights to longevity than Griboyedov. They cannot be close and placed one with the other. Pushkin is huge, fruitful, strong, rich. He is for Russian art what Lomonosov is for Russian enlightenment in general. Pushkin took over his entire era, he himself created another, gave birth to schools of artists - he took everything in his era, except what Griboyedov managed to take and what Pushkin did not agree on.

Despite Pushkin's genius, his leading heroes, like the heroes of his century, are already turning pale and becoming a thing of the past. His brilliant creations, continuing to serve as models and sources of art, themselves become history. We have studied Onegin, his time and his environment, weighed it, determined the meaning of this type, but we no longer find living traces of this personality in modern century, although the creation of this type will remain indelible in literature. Even the later heroes of the century, for example, Lermontov's Pechorin, representing, like Onegin, his era, however, turn to stone in immobility, like statues on graves. We are not talking about their more or less bright types who appeared later, who managed to go to the grave during the authors’ lifetime, leaving behind some rights to literary memory.

Called immortal the comedy “The Minor” by Fonvizin - and thoroughly - its lively, hot period lasted about half a century: this is enormous for a work of words. But now there is not a single hint in “Minor” to living life, and the comedy, having served its purpose, turned into a historical monument.

“Woe from Wit” appeared before Onegin, Pechorin, outlived them, passed unscathed through the Gogol period, lived these half a century from the time of its appearance and still lives its imperishable life, will survive many more eras and will not lose its vitality.

Why is this, and what is this “Woe from Wit” anyway?

Criticism did not move the comedy from the place it had once occupied, as if at a loss as to where to place it. The oral assessment was ahead of the printed one, just as the play itself was long ahead of the printing. But the literate masses actually appreciated it. Immediately realizing its beauty and not finding any flaws, she tore the manuscript into pieces, into verses, half-verses, spread all the salt and wisdom of the play into colloquial speech, as if she had turned a million into ten-kopeck pieces, and so peppered the conversation with Griboyedov’s sayings that she literally wore out the comedy to the point of satiety. .

But the play passed this test too - and not only did it not become vulgar, but it seemed to become dearer to readers, it found in each of them a patron, a critic and a friend, like Krylov’s fables, which did not lose their literary power, having passed from the book into living speech.

Printed criticism has always treated with more or less severity only the stage performance of the play, touching little on the comedy itself or expressing itself in fragmentary, incomplete and contradictory reviews.

It was decided once and for all that the comedy was an exemplary work - and with that everyone made peace.

What should an actor do when thinking about his role in this play? To rely on one’s own judgment alone will not suffice for any pride, but to listen to the talk of forty years public opinion– there is no way without getting lost in petty analysis. It remains, from the countless chorus of opinions expressed and expressed, to dwell on some general conclusions, most often repeated, and build your own assessment plan on them.

Some value in comedy a picture of Moscow morals of a certain era, the creation of living types and their skillful grouping. The whole play seems to be a circle of faces familiar to the reader, and, moreover, as definite and closed as a deck of cards. The faces of Famusov, Molchalin, Skalozub and others were etched into the memory as firmly as kings, jacks and queens in cards, and everyone had a more or less consistent concept of all the faces, except for one - Chatsky. So they are all drawn correctly and strictly, and so they have become familiar to everyone. Only about Chatsky many are perplexed: what is he? It's like he's the fifty-third mysterious card in the deck. If there was little disagreement in the understanding of other people, then about Chatsky, on the contrary, the differences have not ended yet and, perhaps, will not end for a long time.

Others, giving justice to the picture of morals, the fidelity of types, value the more epigrammatic salt of language, living satire - morality, with which the play still, like an inexhaustible well, supplies everyone at every everyday step of life.

But both connoisseurs almost pass over in silence the “comedy” itself, the action, and many even deny it conventional stage movement.

Despite this, however, every time the personnel in the roles changes, both judges go to the theater, and again lively talk arises about the performance of this or that role and about the roles themselves, as if in a new play.

All these various impressions and each one’s own point of view based on them serve best definition plays, that is, that the comedy “Woe from Wit” is both a picture of morals, and a gallery of living types, and an ever-sharp, burning satire, and at the same time a comedy and, let’s say for ourselves, - most of all a comedy - which is unlikely to be found in other literatures, if we accept the totality of all other stated conditions. As a painting, it is, without a doubt, enormous. Her canvas captures a long period of Russian life - from Catherine to Emperor Nicholas. The group of twenty faces reflected, like a ray of light in a drop of water, the entire former Moscow, its design, its spirit at that time, its historical moment and morals. And this with such artistic, objective completeness and certainty that only Pushkin and Gogol were given in our country.

In a picture where there is not a single pale spot, not a single extraneous stroke or sound, the viewer and reader feel even now, in our era, among living people. Both the general and the details, all this was not composed, but was entirely taken from Moscow living rooms and transferred to the book and to the stage, with all the warmth and with all the “special imprint” of Moscow - from Famusov to the smallest touches, to Prince Tugoukhovsky and to the footman Parsley, without which the picture would not be complete.

However, for us it is not quite finished yet historical picture: we have not moved away from the era at a sufficient distance for an impassable abyss to lie between it and our time. The coloring was not smoothed out at all; the century has not separated from ours, like a cut-off piece: we have inherited something from there, although the Famusovs, Molchalins, Zagoretskys and others have changed so that they no longer fit into the skin of Griboyedov’s types. The harsh features have become obsolete, of course: no Famusov will now invite Maxim Petrovich to be a jester and hold up Maxim Petrovich as an example, at least not in such a positive and obvious way. Molchalin, even in front of the maid, quietly, now does not confess to those commandments that his father bequeathed to him; such a Skalozub, such a Zagoretsky are impossible even in a distant outback. But as long as there will be a desire for honors apart from merit, as long as there will be masters and hunters to please and “take rewards and live happily,” while gossip, idleness, and emptiness will reign not as vices, but as elements public life, – until then, of course, they will flicker in modern society features of the Famusovs, Molchalins and others, there is no need that that “special imprint” of which Famusov was proud was erased from Moscow itself.

Universal human models, of course, always remain, although they also turn into types unrecognizable due to temporary changes, so that, to replace the old, artists sometimes have to update, after long periods, the basic features of morals and human nature in general that once appeared in images , clothing them with new flesh and blood in the spirit of their time. Tartuffe, of course, is an eternal type, Falstaff is an eternal character, but both of them, and many still famous similar prototypes of passions, vices, etc., disappearing in the fog of antiquity, almost lost their living image and turned into an idea, into a conventional concept, a common name for vice, and for us they no longer serve as a living lesson, but as a portrait of a historical gallery.

This can especially be attributed to Griboyedov’s comedy. In it, the local coloring is too bright and the designation of the characters themselves is so strictly delineated and furnished with such reality of details that universal human traits barely stand out from under social positions, ranks, costumes, etc.

As a picture of modern morals, the comedy “Woe from Wit” was partly an anachronism even when it appeared on the Moscow stage in the thirties. Already Shchepkin, Mochalov, Lvova-Sinetskaya, Lensky, Orlov and Saburov played not from life, but according to fresh legend. And then the sharp strokes began to disappear. Chatsky himself thunders against the “past century” when the comedy was written, and it was written between 1815 and 1820.

How to compare and see (he says)
This century and this century past,
The legend is fresh, but hard to believe,

and about his time he expresses himself like this:

Now everyone breathes more freely,

Scolded your forever I am merciless, -

he says to Famusov.

Consequently, now only a little of the local color remains: passion for rank, sycophancy, emptiness. But with some reforms, the ranks can move away, sycophancy to the extent of servility of the Molchalinsky is already hiding in the darkness, and the poetry of the frunt has given way to a strict and rational direction in military affairs.

But there are still some living traces, and they still prevent the painting from turning into a completed historical bas-relief. This future is still far ahead of her.

Salt, an epigram, a satire, this colloquial verse, it seems, will never die, just like the sharp and caustic, living Russian mind scattered in them, which Griboedov imprisoned, like some kind of spirit wizard, in his castle, and he scatters there with evil with fur. It is impossible to imagine that another, more natural, simpler, more taken from life speech could ever appear. Prose and verse merged here into something inseparable, then, it seems, so that it would be easier to retain them in memory and put into circulation again all the intelligence, humor, jokes and anger of the Russian mind and language collected by the author. This language was given to the author in the same way as it was given to a group of these individuals, as it was given to main meaning comedy, how it all came together, as if it poured out at once, and everything formed an extraordinary comedy - both in the narrow sense, like a stage play, and in the broad sense, like the comedy of life. It couldn't have been anything else but a comedy.

Leaving aside the two main aspects of the play, which so clearly speak for themselves and therefore have the majority of admirers - that is, the picture of the era, with a group of living portraits, and the salt of the language - let us first turn to comedy as stage play, then how to comedy in general, to its general meaning, to its main reason in social and literary significance Finally, let's talk about its performance on stage.

We have long been accustomed to saying that there is no movement, that is, no action in a play. How is there no movement? There is - living, continuous, from Chatsky’s first appearance on stage to his last word: “Carriage for me, carriage!”

This is a subtle, intelligent, elegant and passionate comedy, in a close, technical sense, true in small psychological details, but almost elusive for the viewer, because it is disguised by the typical faces of the heroes, ingenious drawing, the color of the place, the era, the charm of the language, with all the poetic forces spilled so abundantly in the play. The action, that is, the actual intrigue in it, in front of these capital aspects seems pale, superfluous, almost unnecessary.

Only when driving around in the entryway does the viewer seem to awaken to the unexpected catastrophe that has broken out between the main characters, and suddenly remember the comedy-intrigue. But even then not for long. The enormous, real meaning of comedy is already growing before him.

The main role, of course, is the role of Chatsky, without which there would be no comedy, but, perhaps, there would be a picture of morals.

Griboyedov himself attributed Chatsky's grief to his mind, but Pushkin denied him any mind at all.

One would think that Griboyedov, out of fatherly love for his hero, flattered him in the title, as if warning the reader that his hero is smart, and everyone else around him is not smart.

But Chatsky is not only smarter than all other people, but also positively smart. His speech is full of intelligence and wit.

Both Onegin and Pechorin turned out to be incapable of action, of an active role, although both vaguely understood that everything around them had decayed. They were even “embarrassed”, carried “discontent” within themselves and wandered around like shadows with “yearning laziness.” But, despising the emptiness of life, the idle lordship, they succumbed to it and did not think of either fighting it or fleeing completely. Dissatisfaction and bitterness did not prevent Onegin from being a dandy, “shine” both in the theater, and at a ball, and in a fashionable restaurant, flirting with girls and seriously courting them in marriage, and Pechorin from shining with interesting boredom and plunging his laziness and bitterness between Princess Mary and Beloy, and then pretend to be indifferent to them in front of the stupid Maxim Maksimych: this indifference was considered the quintessence of Don Juanism. Both were languishing, suffocating in their environment and did not know what to want. Onegin tried to read, but yawned and gave up, because he and Pechorin were familiar only with the science of “tender passion,” and for everything else they learned “something and somehow” - and they had nothing to do.

Chatsky, apparently, on the contrary, was seriously preparing for activity. “He writes and translates well,” Famusov says about him, and everyone talks about his high intelligence. He, of course, traveled for good reason, studied, read, apparently got down to work, had relations with ministers and separated - it’s not difficult to guess why:

I would be glad to serve, but being served is sickening, -

he hints himself. There is no mention of “yearning laziness, idle boredom,” and even less of “tender passion,” as a science and an occupation. He loves seriously, seeing Sophia as his future wife.

Meanwhile, Chatsky had to drink the bitter cup to the bottom - not finding “living sympathy” in anyone, and leaving, taking with him only “a million torments.”

Neither Onegin nor Pechorin would have acted so foolishly in general, especially in the matter of love and matchmaking. But they have already turned pale and turned into stone statues for us, and Chatsky remains and will always remain alive for this “stupidity” of his.

The reader remembers, of course, everything that Chatsky did. Let us slightly trace the course of the play and try to highlight from it the dramatic interest of the comedy, the movement that runs through the entire play, like an invisible but living thread connecting all the parts and faces of the comedy with each other.

Chatsky runs to Sophia, straight from the road carriage, without stopping by his place, passionately kisses her hand, looks into her eyes, rejoices at the date, hoping to find an answer to his old feeling - and does not find it. He was struck by two changes: she became unusually prettier and cooled off towards him - also unusual.

This puzzled him, upset him, and a little irritated him. In vain he tries to sprinkle the salt of humor into his conversation, partly playing with this strength of his, which, of course, was what Sophia liked before when she loved him - partly under the influence of annoyance and disappointment. Everyone gets it, he went through everyone - from Sophia’s father to Molchalin - and with what apt features he draws Moscow - and how many of these poems have gone into living speech! But everything is in vain: tender memories, witticisms - nothing helps. He suffers nothing but coldness from her until, caustically touching Molchalin, he touched her too. She already asks him with hidden anger whether he happened to even accidentally “say kind things about someone,” and disappears at her father’s entrance, betraying Chatsky to the latter almost with her head, that is, declaring him the hero of the dream told to his father before.

From that moment on, a hot duel ensued between her and Chatsky, the most lively action, a comedy in the close sense, in which two people, Molchalin and Liza, take a close part.

Every step of Chatsky, almost every word in the play is closely connected with the play of his feelings for Sophia, irritated by some kind of lie in her actions, which he struggles to unravel until the very end. His whole mind and all his strength go into this struggle: it served as a motive, a reason for irritation, for that “millions of torments”, under the influence of which he could only play the role indicated to him by Griboyedov, a role of much greater, higher significance than unsuccessful love , in a word, the role for which the whole comedy was born.

Chatsky hardly notices Famusov, coldly and absentmindedly answers his question, where have you been? “Do I care now?” - he says and, promising to come again, leaves, saying from what is absorbing him:

How Sofya Pavlovna has become prettier for you!

On his second visit, he starts talking again about Sofya Pavlovna. “Isn’t she sick? did she experience any sadness? - and to such an extent he is overwhelmed and fueled by the feeling of her blossoming beauty and her coldness towards him that when asked by his father if he wants to marry her, he absent-mindedly asks: “What do you want?” And then indifferently, only out of decency, he adds:

Let me woo you, what would you tell me?

And almost without listening to the answer, he sluggishly remarks on the advice to “serve”:

I would be glad to serve, but being served is sickening!

He came to Moscow and to Famusov, obviously for Sophia and to Sophia alone. He doesn't care about others; Even now he is annoyed that, instead of her, he found only Famusov. “How could she not be here?” - he asks himself, remembering his former youthful love, which “neither distance, nor entertainment, nor change of places” cooled in him - and he is tormented by its coldness.

He is bored and talking with Famusov - and only Famusov’s positive challenge to an argument brings Chatsky out of his concentration.

That's it, you are all proud:
If only we could see what our fathers did

says Famusov and then draws such a crude and ugly picture of servility that Chatsky could not stand it and, in turn, made a parallel between the “past” century and the “present” century.

But his irritation is still restrained: he seems ashamed of himself that he decided to sober Famusov from his concepts; he hastens to insert that “he’s not talking about his uncle,” whom Famusov cited as an example, and even invites the latter to scold his age; finally, he tries in every possible way to hush up the conversation, seeing how Famusov has covered his ears, he calms him down, almost apologizes.

It’s not my desire to prolong arguments, -

he says. He is ready to enter himself again. But he is awakened by Famusov’s unexpected hint about a rumor about Skalozub’s matchmaking.

It’s as if he’s marrying Sofyushka... etc.

Chatsky perked up his ears.

How he fusses, what agility!

“And Sophia? Isn’t there really a groom here?” - he says, and although then he adds:

Ah - tell love the end,
Who will go away for three years! -

but he himself still does not believe it, following the example of all lovers, until this love axiom was played out over him to the end.

Famusov confirms his hint about Skalozub’s marriage, imposing on the latter the thought of “the general’s wife,” and almost obviously invites him to matchmaking.

These hints about marriage aroused Chatsky’s suspicions about the reasons for Sophia’s change towards him. He even agreed to Famusov’s request to give up “false ideas” and remain silent in front of the guest. But the irritation was already crescendo 1
Increasing ( italian.).

And he intervened in the conversation, casually for now, and then, annoyed by Famusov’s awkward praise of his intelligence and so on, he raised his tone and resolved himself with a sharp monologue:

“Who are the judges?” etc. Here another struggle begins, an important and serious one, a whole battle. Here, in a few words, the main motive is heard, as in an opera overture, and the true meaning and purpose of the comedy is hinted at. Both Famusov and Chatsky threw down the gauntlet to each other:

If only we could see what our fathers did
You should learn by looking at your elders! -

Famusov's military cry was heard. Who are these elders and “judges”?

The comedy "Woe from Wit" stands out somehow in literature and is distinguished by its youthfulness, freshness and stronger vitality from other works of the word. She is like a hundred-year-old man, around whom everyone, having lived out their time in turn, dies and lies down, and he walks, vigorous and fresh, between the graves of old people and the cradles of new people. And it never occurs to anyone that someday his turn will come.
The main role, of course, is the role of Chatsky, without which there would be no comedy, but, perhaps, there would be a picture of morals. Chatsky is not only smarter than all other people, but also positively smart. His speech is full of intelligence and wit. He has a heart, and, moreover, he is impeccably honest. In a word, he is not only an intelligent person, but also a developed one, with feeling, or, as his maid Lisa recommends, he is “sensitive, and cheerful, and sharp.” Chatsky, apparently, was preparing seriously for his activities. He “writes and translates beautifully,” Famusov says about him, and about his high mind. He, of course, traveled for good reason, studied, read, apparently got to work, had relations with ministers and separated - it’s not difficult to guess why. “I would be glad to serve, but being served is sickening,” he himself hints.
He loves seriously, seeing Sophia as his future wife. He came to Moscow and to Famusov, obviously for Sophia and for Sophia alone.
Two comedies seem to be nested within one another: one, so to speak, is private, petty, domestic, between Chatsky, Sofia, Molchalin and Liza: this is the intrigue of love, the everyday motive of all comedies. When the first is interrupted, another unexpectedly appears in the interval, and the action begins again, a private comedy plays out into a general battle and is tied into one knot.
Meanwhile, Chatsky had to drink the bitter cup to the bottom - not finding “living sympathy” in anyone, and leaving, taking with him only “a million torments.” Chatsky is eager to " free life", "to engage" in science and art and demands "service to the cause, not to individuals." He is an exposer of lies and everything that has become obsolete, that drowns out new life, "free life." All his mind and all his strength go into this struggle. Not only for Sophia, but also for Famusov and all his guests, Chatsky’s “mind,” which sparkled like a ray of light in the whole play, burst out at the end into that thunder at which, as the proverb goes, men are baptized. All that was needed was an explosion, a battle, and it began, stubborn and hot - on one day in one house, but its consequences were reflected throughout Moscow and Russia.
Chatsky, even if he was deceived in his personal expectations, did not find the “charm of meetings, living participation,” then he himself sprinkled living water on the dead soil - taking with him “a million torments” - torments from everything: from the “mind”, from the “offended feeling "Chatsky's role is a passive role: it cannot be otherwise. This is the role of all Chatskys, although at the same time it is always victorious. But they do not know about their victory, they only sow and others reap. Chatsky is broken by the amount of old power, inflicting it in turn death blow quality of fresh strength. He is the eternal denouncer of lies hidden in the proverb: “alone in the field is not a warrior.” No, a warrior, if he is Chatsky, and a winner at that, but an advanced warrior, a skirmisher and always a victim.
Chatsky is inevitable with every change from one century to another. It’s unlikely that Griboyedov’s Chatsky will ever grow old, and with him the whole comedy. Chatsky, in our opinion, is the most lively personality of all the comedy heroes. His nature is stronger and deeper than other persons and therefore could not be exhausted in comedy.

The comedy “Woe from Wit” stands out somehow in literature.<...>She is like a hundred-year-old man, around whom everyone, having lived out their time in turn, dies and lies down, and he walks, vigorous and fresh, between the graves of old people and the cradles of new people. And it never occurs to anyone that someday his turn will come.

The main role, of course, is the role of Chatsky, without whom there would be no comedy, but, perhaps, there would be a picture of morals.<...>

One would think that Griboyedov, out of fatherly love for his hero, flattered him in the title, as if warning the reader that his hero is smart, and everyone else around him is not smart.

But Chatsky is not only smarter than all other people, but also positively smart. His speech is full of intelligence and wit. He has a heart, and, moreover, he is impeccably honest. In a word, this is not only an intelligent person, but also a developed one, with feeling, or, as his maid Lisa recommends, he is “sensitive, and cheerful, and sharp!” Only his personal grief did not come from his mind alone, but more from other reasons, where his mind played a passive role.<...>

Chatsky, as you can see,<...>I was preparing seriously for the activity. “He writes and translates well,” Famusov says about him, and everyone talks about his high intelligence. He, of course, traveled... studied, read, apparently got to work, had relations with ministers and separated - it’s not difficult to guess why:

I would be glad to serve, it’s sickening to be served, -

he hints himself.<...>

Every step, almost every word in the play is closely connected with the play of his feelings for Sophia, irritated by some kind of lie in her actions, which he struggles to unravel until the very end. His whole mind and all his strength go into this struggle: it served as a motive, a reason for irritation, for that “millions of torments”, under the influence of which he could only play the role indicated to him by Griboyedov, a role of much greater, higher significance than unsuccessful love , in a word, the role for which the whole comedy was born.<...>

He came to Moscow and to Famusov, obviously for Sophia and for Sophia alone. He doesn’t care about others: he’s still annoyed that he found only Famusov instead of her. “How could she not be here?” - he asks himself, recalling his former youthful love, which in him “neither distance, nor entertainment, nor a change of place cooled” - and is tormented by its coldness.<...>

After the scene in the entryway, Molchalin cannot remain the same Molchalin. The mask is pulled off, he is recognized, and like a caught thief, he has to hide in a corner. Gorichi, Zagoretsky, the princesses - all fell under the hail of his shots, and these shots will not remain without a trace. In this still consonant chorus, other voices, still bold yesterday, will fall silent or others will be heard, both “for” and “against”. The battle was just heating up.<...>All that was needed was an explosion, a battle, and it began, stubborn and hot - on one day in one house, but its consequences, as we said above, were reflected throughout Moscow and Russia. Chatsky created a schism, and if he was deceived in his personal goals, did not find “the charm of meetings, living participation,” then he himself sprinkled living water on the dead soil - taking with him “a million torments,” this Chatsky’s crown of thorns - torments from everything: from “ mind,” and even more from “offended feelings.”<...>

The role and physiognomy of the Chatskys remains unchanged. Chatsky is most of all an exposer of lies and everything that has become obsolete, that drowns out new life, “free life.”<...>

He is very positive in his demands and states them in a ready-made form, developed not by him, but by the century that has already begun. He does not, with youthful ardor, drive from the stage everything that has survived, that, according to the laws of reason and justice, as according to natural laws in physical nature, remains to live out its term, that can and should be tolerable. He demands space and freedom for his age: he asks for work, but does not want to serve and stigmatizes servility and buffoonery. He demands “service to the cause, not to individuals,” does not mix “fun or tomfoolery with business,” like Molchalin; he languishes among the empty, idle crowd of “tormentors, sinister old women, quarrelsome old men,” refusing to bow to their authority of decrepitude and love of rank. and so on. He is outraged by the ugly manifestations of serfdom, insane luxury and disgusting morals of “spillage in feasts and extravagance” - phenomena of mental and moral blindness and corruption.

His ideal of a “free life” is defined: this is freedom from all these countless chains of slavery that shackle society, and then freedom - “to focus on the sciences the mind hungry for knowledge”, or to unhinderedly indulge in “the creative, high and beautiful arts” - freedom “to serve or not to serve”, “to live in a village or to travel”, without being considered either a robber or an incendiary - and a series of further successive similar steps towards freedom - from unfreedom.<...>

Chatsky is broken by the amount of old power, inflicting a mortal blow on it in turn with the quality of fresh power.

He is the eternal denouncer of lies hidden in the proverb: “Alone in the field is not a warrior.” No, a warrior, if he is Chatsky, and a winner at that, but an advanced warrior, a skirmisher and always a victim.

All he had to do was leave; but another, lively, lively comedy invades the stage, several new perspectives of Moscow life open up at once, which not only displace Chatsky’s intrigue from the viewer’s memory, but Chatsky himself seems to forget about it and gets in the way of the crowd. New faces group around him and play, each their own role. This is a ball with all the Moscow atmosphere, with a number of live stage sketches, in which each group forms its own separate comedy, with a complete outline of the characters, who managed to play out in a few words into a complete action.<...>But the cup overflowed. He leaves the back rooms, completely upset, and out of old friendship in the crowd, he again goes to Sophia, hoping for at least simple sympathy. He confides in her his state of mind:

A million torments! -

he says.

Breasts from friendly vices,
Feet from shuffling, ears from exclamations,
And all sorts of trifles are worse than my head!
My soul here is somehow compressed with grief! -

he complains to her, not suspecting what conspiracy has matured against him in the enemy camp.

“A million torments” and “grief”! - this is what he reaped for everything he managed to sow. Until now he had been invincible: his mind mercilessly struck the sore spots of his enemies. Famusov finds nothing but to cover his ears against his logic, and shoots back commonplaces old morality. Molchalin falls silent, the princesses and countesses back away from him, burned by the nettles of his laughter, and his former friend, Sophia, whom he spares alone, dissembles, slips and deals him the main blow on the sly, declaring him at hand, casually, crazy.

He felt his strength and spoke confidently. But the struggle exhausted him. He was obviously weakened by this “millions of torments,” and the disorder was so noticeable in him that all the guests grouped around him, just as a crowd gathers around any phenomenon that comes out of the ordinary order of things.

He is not only sad, but also bilious and picky. He, like a wounded man, gathers all his strength, challenges the crowd - and strikes everyone - but he does not have enough power against the united enemy.

He falls into exaggeration, almost into intoxication of speech, and confirms in the opinion of the guests the rumor spread by Sophia about his madness. One can no longer hear sharp, poisonous sarcasm - into which a correct, definite idea is inserted, really - but some kind of bitter complaint, as if about a personal insult, about an empty or, in his own words, “insignificant meeting with a Frenchman from Bordeaux” , which he, in a normal state of mind, would hardly have noticed.<...>

Having gotten rid of Repetilov's chatter and hid in the Swiss waiting for the carriage, he spied on Sophia's date with Molchalin and played the role of Othello, without having any rights to do so. He reproaches her for why she “lured him with hope,” why she didn’t directly say that the past was forgotten. Every word here is not true. She did not entice him with any hope. All she did was walk away from him, barely spoke to him, admitted indifference, called some old children's novel and hiding in corners childish, and even hinted that “God brought her together with Molchalin.”

And he only because

So passionate and so low
Was a waster of tender words,

in a rage, for his own useless humiliation, for the deception voluntarily imposed on himself, he executes everyone, and he throws a cruel and unfair word at her:

With you I am proud of my breakup, -

when there was nothing to tear apart! Finally, he simply comes to the point of abuse, pouring out bile:

For the daughter and for the father,
And on a foolish lover,

and seethes with rage at everyone, “at the tormentors, the crowd of traitors, clumsy wise men, crafty simpletons, sinister old women,” etc. And he leaves Moscow to look for “a corner for offended feelings,” pronouncing a merciless judgment and sentence on everyone!

If he had had one healthy minute, if “a million torments” had not burned him, he would, of course, have asked himself the question: “Why and for what reason have I done all this mess?” And, of course, I wouldn’t find the answer.

Griboyedov is responsible for him, who ended the play with this disaster for a reason. In it, not only for Sophia, but also for Famusov and all his guests, Chatsky’s “mind,” which sparkled like a ray of light in the whole play, burst out at the end into that thunder at which, as the proverb goes, men are baptized.

From the thunder, Sophia was the first to cross herself, remaining until Chatsky appeared, when Molchalin was already crawling at her feet, with the same unconscious Sofia Pavlovna, with the same lies in which her father raised her, in which he lived himself, his entire house and his entire circle . Having not yet recovered from shame and horror when the mask fell from Molchalin, she first of all rejoices that “at night she learned everything, that there are no reproachful witnesses in her eyes!” But there are no witnesses, therefore, everything is sewn and covered, you can forget, perhaps marry Skalozub.

This is a mixture of good instincts with lies, a lively mind with the absence of any hint of ideas and beliefs - confusion of concepts, mental and moral blindness - all this does not have the character of personal vices in it, but is like common features her circle. In her own, personal face, something of her own is hidden in the shadows, hot, tender, even dreamy. The rest belongs to education.<...>

But in Sofya Pavlovna, we hasten to make a reservation, that is, in her feelings for Molchalin, there is a lot of sincerity.<...>Sophia is surprised at the maid’s laughter when she tells how she and Molchalin spend the whole night: “Not a free word! - and so the whole night passes!”, “The enemy of insolence, always shy, bashful!” That's what she admires about him! It's funny, but there is some kind of almost grace here - and it's a far cry from immorality.<...>

Looking deeper into the character and situation of Sophia, you see that it was not immorality (but not God, of course) that “brought her together” with Molchalin. First of all, the desire to patronize a loved one, poor, modest, who does not dare raise his eyes to her - to elevate him to oneself, to one’s circle, to give him family rights. Without a doubt, she enjoyed the role of ruling over a submissive creature, making him happy and having an eternal slave in him. It’s not our fault that this turned out to be the future “husband-boy, husband-servant - the ideal of Moscow husbands!” There was nowhere to stumble upon other ideals in Famusov’s house.

In general, it is difficult to be unsympathetic to Sofya Pavlovna: she has strong inclinations of a remarkable nature, a lively mind, passion and feminine softness. It was ruined in the stuffiness, where not a single ray of light, not a single stream penetrated fresh air. No wonder Chatsky loved her too. After him, she, alone from this entire crowd, begs for some kind of sad feeling, and in the reader’s soul there is not that indifferent laughter against her with which he parted with other people.

She, of course, has it harder than everyone else, harder even than Chatsky, and she gets her “millions of torments.”

Chatsky's role is a passive role: it cannot be otherwise. This is the role of all Chatskys, although at the same time it is always victorious. But they do not know about their victory, they only sow, and others reap - and this is their main suffering, that is, in the hopelessness of success.

Comedy by A. S. Griboyedov “Woe from Wit” as a socio-political drama

The name of A. S. Griboyedov opens one of the brilliant pages in the history of Russian literature. According to V. G. Belinsky, Alexander Sergeevich is one of the “strongest manifestations of the Russian spirit.” His comedy “Woe from Wit” played an outstanding role in the socio-political and moral education of people.

This work broadly and realistically reflected the life of Moscow in the twenties of the 19th century, as well as the movement of advanced social thought in Russia, when noble revolutionaries - the Decembrists - came out to fight the old world.

I. A. Goncharov, who wrote a deep article about “Woe from Wit,” said that “Chatsky begins new Age- and this is his whole meaning and his whole mind.” Without such an understanding, it is impossible to evaluate and correctly comprehend the image of the hero. Chatsky, an exponent of progressive ideas, as well as a true patriot, said: “When you travel, you return home, and the smoke of the fatherland is sweet and pleasant to us!”

By creating the image of a new hero, A. S. Griboedov shows that the mind is a powerful force IN The fight against inertia and despotism, and it is he who brings Chatsky into a clash with Famus society. Already in the name of the comedy lies the key to its understanding. The writer’s work speaks of a person’s grief, and this grief comes from the mind. This problem was relevant in Griboyedov’s time, since the words “smart” and “clever” were used as synonyms for the concept “free-thinking”.

It was precisely such a mind in Famus’s world that was regarded as madness, insanity. This is the basis in the comedy for the internal development of the conflict between two worlds: “the present century” and the “past century.”

“The Present Century” is the main character of the work, sharply denouncing the Moscow nobility, rebelling against ignorance; “the past century” are representatives who hate enlightenment Famusov society, who declared that “learning is a plague,” “if we were to stop evil, we would collect all the books and burn them.” Chatsky opposes bureaucracy, serving people rather than business (“I would be glad to serve, but being served is sickening”). He is outraged by Famusov’s principles: “it’s signed - off your shoulders,” “well, how can you not please your dear little one.” Main character, selflessly loving his homeland, his people, advocates a careful attitude towards the Russian language, “so that our smart, cheerful people, even though in language, do not consider us to be Germans.” Chatsky is eloquent, a man of extraordinary intelligence, courageous, honest and sincere. A. S. Griboedov shows these qualities especially clearly, contrasting the hypocritical sycophant Molchalin with the main character. This is a vile person who regularly fulfills his father’s behest “to please all people without exception.” Molchalin is a “low-worshipper and businessman,” as Chatsky characterizes him, whose bold speeches shook the calm of Famus society, causing indignation and sharp rebuff. The old world resists, fights the hero, using slander. Together they picked up the rumor started by Sophia about Alexander Andreevich’s madness. Famusov's world is still strong and numerous. And the offended Chatsky flees from Pavel Afanasyevich’s house, flees from Moscow. But the reader is convinced of the hero’s moral victory over the old world.

I. A. Goncharov in the article “A Million Torments” defined the meaning of Griboyedov’s hero: “he is the eternal exposer of lies, hidden in the proverb: one in the field is not a warrior. No, a warrior, if he is Chatsky and, moreover, a winner.”

A. S. Griboyedov left an indelible mark on the history of Russian culture. In the comedy "Woe from Wit" he put forward the main social and idealistic problem of his turning point - the problem of irreconcilable hostility between the defenders of the old system and representatives of the new worldview, the new free life. This topic not only did not lose its importance throughout the 19th century, but, on the contrary, became increasingly acute, reflecting the socio-historical contradictions of the bourgeois era. The great comedy remains fresh and relevant in our time. And the patriotism and deep faith in Russia of A. S. Griboyedov, a wonderful national and people’s writer, is very dear to today’s reader.

It seems to me that this is correct
And I. A. Goncharov in his article “A Million Torments” wrote: “Woe from Wit” is both a picture of morals and a gallery of living types, an ever-sharp, burning satire, and at the same time a comedy.” . And, apparently, this is why Griboyedov’s comedy is still interesting to readers; it does not leave the stages of many theaters. This is truly an immortal work.
Even Goncharov, in his article “A Million Torments,” correctly noted that “Chatsky, as a person, is incomparably higher and smarter than Onegin and Lermontov’s Pechorin... Their time ends with them, and Chatsky begins a new century - and this is all his significance and the whole “ mind".
The comedy “Woe from Wit” by A. S. G. Riboyedov, work on which was completed in 1824, is an innovative work in terms of issues, style, and composition. For the first time in Russian drama, the task was set to show not just a comedic action based on a love triangle, not mask images corresponding to the traditional roles of classicist comedies, but living, real types of people - Griboedov’s contemporaries, with their real problems, not only personal, but also social conflicts.

He spoke very accurately about the peculiarities of the construction of the comedy “Woe from Wit” in his critical sketch “A Million Torments”. I.A. Goncharov: “Two comedies seem to be nested within one another: one, so to speak, private, petty, domestic, between Chatsky, Sofia, Molchalin and Liza: this is the intrigue of love, the everyday motive of all comedies. When the first one is interrupted, another unexpectedly appears in the interval, and the action begins again, a private comedy plays out into a general battle and is tied into one knot.”

This fundamental position allows us to correctly evaluate and understand both the problems and the heroes of the comedy, and therefore, understand the meaning of its ending. But first of all, we need to determine what the ending is about. we're talking about. After all, if, as Goncharov convincingly puts it, there are two intrigues, two conflicts in a comedy, then there should be two endings. Let's start with a more traditional - personal - conflict.

In the comedies of classicism, the action was usually based on a “love triangle”, which consisted of characters with a clearly defined function in the plot and character. This “role system” included: a heroine and two lovers - a lucky one and an unlucky one, a father who has no idea about his daughter’s love, and a maid who arranges dates for the lovers - the so-called soubrette. There is some semblance of such “roles” in Griboedov’s comedy.

Chatsky would have to play the role of the first, successful lover, who in the finale, having successfully overcome all difficulties, successfully marries his beloved. But the development of the comedy and especially its ending refute the possibility of such an interpretation: Sophia clearly prefers Molchalin, she gives rise to gossip about Chatsky’s madness, which forces Chatsky to leave not only Famusov’s house, but also Moscow and, at the same time, give up hopes for Sophia’s reciprocity . In addition, Chatsky also has the traits of a hero-reasoner, who in the works of classicism served as an exponent of the author’s ideas.

Molchalin would fit the role of a second lover, especially since he is also associated with the presence of a second - comic - " love triangle"(Molchalin - Liza). But in fact, it turns out that he is the one who is lucky in love, Sophia has a special affection for him, which is more suitable for the role of the first lover. But here, too, Griboyedov departs from tradition: Molchalin is clearly not positive hero, which is mandatory for the role of the first lover, and is portrayed with a negative author’s assessment.

Griboedov departs somewhat from tradition in his depiction of the heroine. In the classical “role system” Sophia should have become ideal heroine, but in “Woe from Wit” this image is interpreted very ambiguously, and in the finale nothing awaits her happy marriage, but a deep disappointment.

The author deviates even more from the norms of classicism in his depiction of the soubrette, Lisa. As a soubrette, she is cunning, quick-witted, resourceful and quite courageous in her relations with gentlemen. She is cheerful and relaxed, which, however, does not prevent her, as befits her role, from taking an active part