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Nikolai Alekseevich Nekrasov Who can live well in Rus'? Yu. Lebedev Russian Odyssey In the “Diary of a Writer” for 1877, F. M. Dostoevsky noticed characteristic feature, which appeared among the Russian people of the post-reform period - “this is a multitude, an extraordinary modern multitude of new people, a new root of Russian people, who need truth, one truth without conditional lies, and who, in order to achieve this truth, will give everything decisively.” Dostoevsky saw in them “the advancing future Russia.” At the very beginning of the 20th century, another writer, V. G. Korolenko, brought out summer trip to the Urals, a discovery that amazed him: “At the same time as in the centers and at the heights of our culture they were talking about Nansen, about Andre’s bold attempt to reach the North Pole in a balloon, in the distant Ural villages there was talk of the Belovodsk kingdom and preparations for their own religious-scientific expedition". Among ordinary Cossacks, the conviction spread and strengthened that “somewhere out there, “beyond the distance of bad weather,” “beyond the valleys, beyond the mountains, beyond the wide seas,” there exists a “blessed country,” in which, by the providence of God and the accidents of history, it has been preserved and flourishes throughout integrity is the complete and complete formula of grace. This is real Dreamland of all centuries and peoples, colored only by the Old Believer mood. In it, planted by the Apostle Thomas, blooms true faith, with churches, bishops, the patriarch and pious kings... This kingdom knows neither theft, nor murder, nor self-interest, since true faith gives birth there to true piety.” It turns out that back in the late 1860s Don Cossacks corresponded with the Ural, collected quite a significant amount and equipped the Cossack Varsonofy Baryshnikov with two comrades to search for this promised land. Baryshnikov set off through Constantinople to Asia Minor, then to the Malabar coast, and finally to the East Indies... The expedition returned with disappointing news: it failed to find Belovodye. Thirty years later, in 1898, the dream of the Belovodsk kingdom flares up with renewed vigor, funds are found, and a new pilgrimage is organized. On May 30, 1898, a “deputation” of Cossacks boarded a ship departing from Odessa for Constantinople. “From this day, in fact, the foreign journey of the deputies of the Urals to the Belovodsk kingdom began, and among the international crowd of merchants, military men, scientists, tourists, diplomats traveling around the world out of curiosity or in search of money, fame and pleasure, three natives, as it were, got mixed up from another world, looking for ways to the fabulous Belovodsk kingdom.” Korolenko described in detail all the vicissitudes of this unusual journey, in which, despite all the curiosity and strangeness of the conceived enterprise, the same Russia of honest people, noted by Dostoevsky, “who need only the truth”, who “have an unshakable desire for honesty and truth”, appeared indestructible, and for the word of truth each of them will give his life and all his advantages.” By the end of the 19th century, not only the top of Russian society was drawn into the great spiritual pilgrimage, all of Russia, all of its people, rushed to it. “These Russian homeless wanderers,” Dostoevsky noted in a speech about Pushkin, “continue their wanderings to this day and, it seems, will not disappear for a long time.” For a long time, “for the Russian wanderer needs precisely universal happiness in order to calm down - he will not be reconciled cheaper.” “There was approximately the following case: I knew one person who believed in a righteous land,” said another wanderer in our literature, Luke, from M. Gorky’s play “At the Depths.” “There must, he said, be a righteous country in the world... in that land, they say, there are special people inhabiting... good people!” They respect each other, they simply help each other... and everything is nice and good with them! And so the man kept getting ready to go... to look for this righteous land. He was poor, he lived poorly... and when things were so difficult for him that he could even lie down and die, he did not lose his spirit, and everything happened, he just grinned and said: “Nothing!” I'll be patient! A few more - I’ll wait... and then I’ll give up this whole life and - I’ll go to the righteous land...” He had only one joy - this land... And to this place - it was in Siberia - they sent an exiled scientist... with books, with plans he, a scientist, with all sorts of things... The man says to the scientist: “Show me, do me a favor, where the righteous land lies and how to get there?” Now it was the scientist who opened his books, laid out his plans... he looked and looked - no nowhere is there a righteous land! “Everything is true, all the lands are shown, but the righteous one is not!” The man doesn’t believe... There must be, he says... look better! Otherwise, he says, your books and plans are of no use if there is no righteous land... The scientist is offended. My plans, he says, are the most faithful, but there is no righteous land at all. Well, then the man got angry - how could that be? Lived, lived, endured, endured and believed everything - there is! but according to plans it turns out - no! Robbery!.. And he says to the scientist: “Oh, you... such a bastard!” You are a scoundrel, not a scientist...” Yes, in his ear - once! Moreover!.. ( After a pause.) And after that he went home and hanged himself!” The 1860s marked a sharp historical turning point in the destinies of Russia, which henceforth broke with the legal, “stay-at-home” existence and the whole world, all the people set out on a long path of spiritual quest, marked by ups and downs, fatal temptations and deviations, but the righteous path lies precisely in passion , in the sincerity of his inescapable desire to find the truth. And perhaps for the first time, Nekrasov’s poetry responded to this deep process, which covered not only the “tops”, but also the very “bottoms” of society. 1 The poet began work on the grandiose plan of a “people's book” in 1863, and ended up mortally ill in 1877, with a bitter awareness of the incompleteness and incompleteness of his plan: “One thing I deeply regret is that I did not finish my poem “To whom in Rus' to live well". It “should have included all the experience given to Nikolai Alekseevich by studying the people, all the information about them accumulated “by word of mouth” over twenty years,” recalled G. I. Uspensky about conversations with Nekrasov. However, the question of the “incompleteness” of “Who Lives Well in Rus'” is very controversial and problematic. Firstly, the poet’s own confessions are subjectively exaggerated. It is known that a writer always has a feeling of dissatisfaction, and the larger the idea, the more acute it is. Dostoevsky wrote about The Brothers Karamazov: “I myself think that not even one tenth of it was possible to express what I wanted.” But on this basis, do we dare to consider Dostoevsky’s novel a fragment of an unrealized plan? It’s the same with “Who Lives Well in Rus'.” Secondly, the poem “Who Lives Well in Rus'” was conceived as an epic, that is, a work of art depicting with the maximum degree of completeness and objectivity an entire era in the life of the people. Since folk life is limitless and inexhaustible in its countless manifestations, the epic in any of its varieties (poem-epic, novel-epic) is characterized by incompleteness and incompleteness. This is its specific difference from other forms of poetic art. "This tricky song He will sing to the end of the word, Who is the whole earth, baptized Rus', It will go from end to end." Her Christ-pleaser himself He hasn’t finished singing - he’s sleeping in eternal sleep - This is how Nekrasov expressed his understanding of the epic plan in the poem “Peddlers.” The epic can be continued indefinitely, but it is also possible to put an end to some high segment of its path. Until now, researchers of Nekrasov’s work are arguing about the sequence of arrangement of parts of “Who Lives Well in Rus',” since the dying poet did not have time to make final orders in this regard. It is noteworthy that this dispute itself involuntarily confirms the epic nature of “Who Lives Well in Rus'.” The composition of this work is built according to the laws of classical epic: it consists of separate, relatively autonomous parts and chapters. Outwardly, these parts are connected by the theme of the road: seven truth-seekers wander around Rus', trying to resolve the question that haunts them: who can live well in Rus'? In the “Prologue” there seems to be a clear outline of the journey - a meeting with a landowner, an official, a merchant, a minister and a tsar. However, the epic lacks a clear and unambiguous sense of purpose. Nekrasov does not force the action and is in no hurry to bring it to an all-resolving conclusion. As an epic artist, he strives for a complete recreation of life, for revealing the entire diversity of folk characters, all the indirectness, all the meandering of folk paths, paths and roads. The world in the epic narrative appears as it is - disordered and unexpected, devoid of linear movement. The author of the epic allows for “digressions, trips into the past, leaps somewhere sideways, to the side.” According to the definition of the modern literary theorist G.D. Gachev, “the epic is like a child walking through the cabinet of curiosities of the universe. One character, or a building, or a thought caught his attention - and the author, forgetting about everything, plunges into it; then he was distracted by another - and he gave himself up to him just as completely. But this is not just a compositional principle, not just the specificity of the plot in the epic... Anyone who, while narrating, makes “digressions”, lingers on this or that subject for an unexpectedly long time; the one who succumbs to the temptation to describe both this and that and is choked with greed, sinning against the pace of the narrative, thereby speaks of the wastefulness, the abundance of being, that he (being) has nowhere to rush. In other words: it expresses the idea that being reigns over the principle of time (while the dramatic form, on the contrary, emphasizes the power of time - it is not for nothing that a seemingly only “formal” demand for the unity of time was born there). The fairy-tale motifs introduced into the epic “Who Lives Well in Rus'” allow Nekrasov to freely and easily deal with time and space, easily transfer the action from one end of Russia to the other, slow down or speed up time according to fairy-tale laws. What unites the epic is not the external plot, not the movement towards an unambiguous result, but the internal plot: slowly, step by step, the contradictory but irreversible growth of national self-awareness, which has not yet come to a conclusion, is still on the difficult roads of quest, becomes clear. In this sense, the plot-compositional looseness of the poem is not accidental: it expresses through its uncollectedness the diversity and diversity folk life thinking about herself differently, assessing her place in the world and her purpose differently. In an effort to recreate the moving panorama of folk life in its entirety, Nekrasov also uses all the wealth of oral folk art. But the folklore element in the epic also expresses the gradual growth of national self-awareness: the fairy-tale motifs of the “Prologue” are replaced by the epic epic, then by lyrical folk songs in “Peasant Woman” and, finally, by the songs of Grisha Dobrosklonov in “A Feast for the Whole World”, striving to become folk and already partially accepted and understood by the people. The men listen to his songs, sometimes nod in agreement, but they have not yet heard the last song, “Rus”: he has not yet sung it to them. And therefore the ending of the poem is open to the future, not resolved. If only our wanderers could be under one roof, If only they could know what was happening to Grisha. But the wanderers did not hear the song “Rus”, which means they did not yet understand what the “embodiment of people’s happiness” was. It turns out that Nekrasov did not finish his song not only because death got in the way. People’s life itself did not finish singing his songs in those years. More than a hundred years have passed since then, and the song begun by the great poet about the Russian peasantry is still being sung. In “The Feast,” only a glimpse of the future happiness is outlined, which the poet dreams of, realizing how many roads lie ahead before its real embodiment. The incompleteness of “Who Lives Well in Rus'” is fundamental and artistically significant as a sign folk epic. “Who Lives Well in Rus'” both as a whole and in each of its parts resembles a peasant lay gathering, which is the most complete expression of democratic people's self-government. At such a gathering, residents of one village or several villages included in the “world” resolved all issues of common worldly life. The gathering had nothing in common with a modern meeting. The chairman leading the discussion was absent. Each community member, at will, entered into a conversation or skirmish, defending his point of view. Instead of voting, the principle of general consent was in effect. The dissatisfied were convinced or retreated, and during the discussion a “worldly verdict” matured. If there was no general agreement, the meeting was postponed to the next day. Gradually, during heated debates, a unanimous opinion matured, agreement was sought and found. Employee of Nekrasov's " Domestic notes“,” the populist writer N. N. Zlatovratsky described the original peasant life: “This is already the second day that we have had gathering after gathering. You look out the window, now at one end, now at the other end of the village, there are crowds of owners, old people, children: some are sitting, others are standing in front of them, with their hands behind their backs and listening attentively to someone. This someone waves his arms, bends his whole body, shouts something very convincingly, falls silent for a few minutes and then starts convincing again. But suddenly they object to him, they object somehow at once, their voices rise higher and higher, they shout at the top of their lungs, as befits such a vast hall as the surrounding meadows and fields, everyone speaks, without being embarrassed by anyone or anything, as befits a free a gathering of equal persons. Not the slightest sign of formality. Foreman Maxim Maksimych himself stands somewhere on the side, like the most invisible member of our community... Here everything goes straight, everything becomes an edge; if anyone, out of cowardice or calculation, decides to get away with silence, he will be mercilessly brought to light clean water. And there are very few of these faint-hearted people at especially important gatherings. I saw the most meek, most unrequited men who<…>at gatherings, in moments of general excitement, they were completely transformed and<…>they gained such courage that they managed to outdo the obviously brave men. At the moments of its apogee, the gathering becomes simply an open mutual confession and mutual exposure, a manifestation of the widest publicity.” Nekrasov’s entire epic poem is a flaring up worldly gathering that is gradually gaining strength. It reaches its peak in the final "Feast for the Whole World." However, a general “worldly verdict” is still not passed. Only the path to it is outlined, many initial obstacles have been removed, and on many points a movement towards general agreement has been identified. But there is no conclusion, life has not stopped, gatherings have not stopped, the epic is open to the future. For Nekrasov, the process itself is important here; it is important that the peasantry not only thought about the meaning of life, but also set out on a difficult, long path of truth-seeking. Let's try to take a closer look at it, moving from “Prologue. Part one" to "The Peasant Woman", "The Last One" and "A Feast for the Whole World". 2 In the "Prologue" the meeting of seven men is narrated as a great epic event. In what year - calculate Guess what land? On the sidewalk Seven men came together... So the epics and fairy-tale heroes for a battle or a feast of honor. Time and space acquire an epic scope in the poem: the action is carried out throughout Rus'. The tightened province, Terpigorev district, Pustoporozhnaya volost, the villages of Zaplatovo, Dyryavino, Razutovo, Znobishino, Gorelovo, Neelovo, Neurozhaina can be attributed to any of the Russian provinces, districts, volosts and villages. The general sign of post-reform ruin is captured. And the question itself, which excited the men, concerns all of Russia - peasant, noble, merchant. Therefore, the quarrel that arose between them is not an ordinary event, but great debate. In the soul of every grain grower, with his own private destiny, with his own everyday interests, a question arose that concerns everyone, the entire people's world. Each one in his own way Left the house before noon: That path led to the forge, He went to the village of Ivankovo Call Father Prokofy Baptize the child. Groin honeycomb Carried to the market in Velikoye, And the two Gubina brothers So easy with a halter Catch a stubborn horse They went to their own herd. It's high time for everyone Return on your own way - They are walking side by side! Each man had his own path, and suddenly they found a common path: the question of happiness united the people. And therefore, before us are no longer ordinary men with their own individual destiny and personal interests, but guardians for the entire peasant world, truth-seekers. The number “seven” is magical in folklore. Seven Wanderers– an image of great epic proportions. The fabulous flavor of the “Prologue” raises the narrative above everyday life, above peasant life and gives the action an epic universality. The fairy-tale atmosphere in the Prologue has many meanings. Giving events a national sound, it also turns into a convenient method for the poet to characterize national self-consciousness. Let us note that Nekrasov plays with the fairy tale. In general, his treatment of folklore is more free and relaxed compared to the poems “Peddlers” and “Frost, Red Nose”. Yes, and he treats the people differently, often makes fun of the peasants, provokes readers, paradoxically sharpens the people's view of things, and laughs at the limitations of the peasant worldview. The intonation structure of the narrative in “Who Lives Well in Rus'” is very flexible and rich: there is the author’s good-natured smile, condescension, light irony, a bitter joke, lyrical regret, grief, reflection, and appeal. The intonation and stylistic polyphony of the narrative in its own way reflects the new phase of folk life. Before us is the post-reform peasantry, which has broken with the immovable patriarchal existence, with the age-old everyday and spiritual settled life. This is already a wandering Rus' with awakened self-awareness, noisy, discordant, prickly and unyielding, prone to quarrels and disputes. And the author does not stand aside from her, but turns into an equal participant in her life. He either rises above the disputants, then becomes imbued with sympathy for one of the disputing parties, then becomes touched, then becomes indignant. Just as Rus' lives in disputes, in search of truth, so the author is in an intense dialogue with her. In the literature about “Who Lives Well in Rus'” one can find the statement that the dispute between the seven wanderers that opens the poem corresponds to the original compositional plan, from which the poet subsequently retreated. Already in the first part there was a deviation from the planned plot, and instead of meeting with the rich and noble, truth-seekers began to interview the crowd. But this deviation immediately occurs at the “upper” level. For some reason, instead of the landowner and the official whom the men had designated for questioning, a meeting takes place with a priest. Is this a coincidence? Let us note first of all that the “formula” of the dispute proclaimed by the peasants signifies not so much original plan, how much is the level of national self-awareness that is manifested in this dispute. And Nekrasov cannot help but show the reader its limitations: men understand happiness in a primitive way and reduce it to a well-fed life and material security. What is it worth, for example, such a candidate for the role of a lucky man, as the “merchant” is proclaimed, and even a “fat-bellied one”! And behind the argument between the men - who lives happily and freely in Rus'? - immediately, but still gradually, muffled, another, much more significant and important question arises, which makes up the soul of the epic poem - how to understand human happiness, where to look for it and what does it consist of? In the final chapter, “A Feast for the Whole World,” the following assessment is given through the mouth of Grisha Dobrosklonov current state national life: “The Russian people are gathering strength and learning to be citizens.” In fact, this formula contains the main pathos of the poem. It is important for Nekrasov to show how the forces that unite them are maturing among the people and what civic orientation they are acquiring. The intent of the poem is by no means to force the wanderers to carry out successive meetings according to the program they have planned. Much more important here is a completely different question: what is happiness in the eternal, Orthodox Christian understanding and are the Russian people capable of combining peasant “politics” with Christian morality? Therefore, folklore motifs in the Prologue play a dual role. On the one hand, the poet uses them to give the beginning of the work a high epic sound, and on the other hand, to emphasize the limited consciousness of the disputants, who deviate in their idea of happiness from the righteous to the evil paths. Let us remember that Nekrasov spoke about this more than once for a long time, for example, in one of the versions of “Song to Eremushka,” created back in 1859. Pleasures change Living does not mean drinking and eating. There are better aspirations in the world, There is a nobler good. Despise the evil ways: There is debauchery and vanity. Honor the covenants that are forever right And learn them from Christ. These same two paths, sung over Russia by the angel of mercy in “A Feast for the Whole World,” are now opening up before the Russian people, who are celebrating a funeral service and are faced with a choice. In the middle of the world For a free heart There are two ways. Weigh the proud strength, Weigh your strong will: Which way to go? This song sounds over Russia, coming to life from the lips of the messenger of the Creator himself, and the fate of the people will directly depend on which path the wanderers take after long wanderings and meanderings along Russian country roads. For now, the poet is pleased only by the very desire of the people to seek the truth. And the direction of these searches, the temptation of wealth at the very beginning of the journey, cannot but cause bitter irony. Therefore, the fairy-tale plot of the “Prologue” is also characterized by the low level of peasant consciousness, spontaneous, vague, with difficulty making its way to universal issues. People's thought has not yet acquired clarity and clarity; it is still fused with nature and is sometimes expressed not so much in words as in action, in deed: instead of thinking, fists are used.
PART ONEPROLOGUE
In what year - calculate
Guess what land?
On the sidewalk
Seven men came together:
Seven temporarily obliged,
A tightened province,
Terpigoreva County,
Empty parish,
From adjacent villages:
Zaplatova, Dyryavina,
Razutova, Znobishina,
Gorelova, Neelova -
There is also a poor harvest,
They came together and argued:
Who has fun?
Free in Rus'? Roman said: to the landowner,
Demyan said: to the official,
Luke said: ass.
To the fat-bellied merchant! -
The Gubin brothers said,
Ivan and Metrodor.
Old man Pakhom pushed
And he said, looking at the ground:
To the noble boyar,
To the sovereign minister.
And Prov said: to the king... The guy's a bull: he'll get in trouble
What a whim in the head -
Stake her from there
You can’t knock them out: they resist,
Everyone stands on their own!
Is this the kind of argument they started?
What do passers-by think?
You know, the kids found the treasure
And they share among themselves...
Each one in his own way
Left the house before noon:
That path led to the forge,
He went to the village of Ivankovo
Call Father Prokofy
Baptize the child.
Groin honeycomb
Carried to the market in Velikoye,
And the two Gubina brothers
So easy with a halter
Catch a stubborn horse
They went to their own herd.
It's high time for everyone
Return on your own way -
They are walking side by side!
They walk as if they are being chased
Behind them are gray wolves,
What's further is quick.
They go - they reproach!
They scream - they won’t come to their senses!
But time doesn’t wait. They didn’t notice the dispute
As the red sun set,
How evening came.
I'd probably kiss you all night
So they went - where, not knowing,
If only they met a woman,
Gnarled Durandiha,
She didn’t shout: “Reverends!
Where are you looking at night?
Have you decided to go?..” She asked, she laughed,
Whipped, witch, gelding
And she rode off at a gallop... “Where?..” - they looked at each other
Our men are here
They stand, silent, looking down...
The night has long since passed,
The stars lit up frequently
In the high skies
The moon has surfaced, the shadows are black
The road was cut
Zealous walkers.
Oh shadows! black shadows!
Who won't you catch up with?
Who won't you overtake?
Only you, black shadows,
You can't catch it - you can't hug it! To the forest, to the path-path
Pakhom looked, remained silent,
I looked - my mind scattered
And finally he said: "Well! goblin nice joke
He played a joke on us!
No way, after all, we are almost
We've gone thirty versts!
Now tossing and turning home -
We're tired - we won't get there,
Let's sit down - there's nothing to do.
Let's rest until the sun!..” Blaming the trouble on the devil,
Under the forest along the path
The men sat down.
They lit a fire, formed a formation,
Two people ran for vodka,
And the others as long as
The glass was made
The birch bark has been touched.
The vodka arrived soon.
The snack has arrived -
The men are feasting! Russian streams and rivers
Good in spring.
But you, spring fields!
On your shoots the poor
Not fun to watch!
“It’s not for nothing that in the long winter
(Our wanderers interpret)
It snowed every day.
Spring has come - the snow has had its effect!
He is humble for the time being:
It flies - is silent, lies - is silent,
When he dies, then he roars.
Water – everywhere you look!
The fields are completely flooded
Carrying manure - there is no road,
And the time is not too early -
The month of May is coming!”
I don’t like the old ones either,
It’s even more painful for new ones
They should look at the villages.
Oh huts, new huts!
You are smart, let him build you up
Not an extra penny,
And blood trouble!.. In the morning we met wanderers
All more people small:
Your brother, a peasant-basket worker,
Craftsmen, beggars,
Soldiers, coachmen.
From the beggars, from the soldiers
The strangers did not ask
How is it for them - is it easy or difficult?
Lives in Rus'?
Soldiers shave with an awl,
Soldiers warm themselves with smoke -
What happiness is there?.. The day was already approaching evening,
They go along the road,
A priest is coming towards me. The peasants took off their caps.
bowed low,
Lined up in a row
And the gelding Savras
They blocked the way.
The priest raised his head
He looked and asked with his eyes:
What do they want? “I suppose! We are not robbers! -
Luke said to the priest.
(Luka is a squat guy,
With a wide beard.
Stubborn, vocal and stupid.
Luke looks like a mill:
One is not a bird mill,
That, no matter how it flaps its wings,
Probably won't fly.) “We are sedate men,
Of those temporarily obliged,
A tightened province,
Terpigoreva County,
Empty parish,
Nearby villages:
Zaplatova, Dyryavina,
Razutova, Znobishina,
Gorelova, Neelova -
Bad harvest too.
Let's go on something important:
We have concerns
Is it such a concern?
Which of the houses did she survive?
She made us friends with work,
I stopped eating.
Give us the right word
To our peasant speech
Without laughter and without cunning,
According to conscience, according to reason,
To answer truthfully
Not so with your care
We'll go to someone else..." – I give you my true word:
If you ask the matter,
Without laughter and without cunning,
In truth and in reason,
How should one answer?
Amen!.. - "Thank you. Listen!
Walking the path,
We came together by chance
They came together and argued:
Who has fun?
Free in Rus'?
Roman said: to the landowner,
Demyan said: to the official,
And I said: ass.
Kupchina fat-bellied, -
The Gubin brothers said,
Ivan and Metrodor.
Pakhom said: to the brightest
To the noble boyar,
To the sovereign minister.
And Prov said: to the king...
The guy's a bull: he'll get in trouble
What a whim in the head -
Stake her from there
You can’t knock it out: no matter how much they argue,
We did not agree!
Having argued, we quarreled,
Having quarreled, they fought,
Having caught up, they changed their minds:
Don't go apart
Don't toss and turn in the houses,
Don't see your wives
Not with the little guys
Not with old people,
As long as our dispute
We won't find a solution
Until we find out
Whatever it is - for certain:
Who likes to live happily?
Free in Rus'?
Tell us in a divine way:
Is the priest's life sweet?
How are you - at ease, happily
Are you living, honest father?..” I looked down and thought,
Sitting in a cart, pop
And he said: “Orthodox!”
It is a sin to grumble against God,
I bear my cross with patience,
I’m living... but how? Listen!
I'll tell you the truth, the truth,
And you have a peasant mind
Be smart! -
“Begin!” – What do you think is happiness?
Peace, wealth, honor -
Isn't that right, dear friends? They said: “Yes”... - Now let's see, brothers,
What's the butt like? peace?
I have to admit, I should start
Almost from birth itself,
How to get a diploma
the priest's son,
At what cost to Popovich
The priesthood is bought
Let's better keep quiet!
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Our roads are difficult.
Our parish is large.
Sick, dying,
Born into the world
They don’t choose time:
In reaping and haymaking,
In the dead of autumn night,
In winter, in severe frosts,
And in the spring flood -
Go wherever you are called!
You go unconditionally.
And even if only the bones
Alone broke, -
No! gets wet every time,
The soul will hurt.
Don't believe it, Orthodox Christians,
There is a limit to habit:
No heart can bear
Without any trepidation
Death rattle
Funeral lament
Orphan's sadness!
Amen!.. Now think.
What's the peace like?.. The peasants thought little
Letting the priest rest,
They said with a bow:
“What else can you tell us?” - Now let's see, brothers,
What's the butt like? honor?
The task is delicate
I wouldn't anger you... Tell me, Orthodox,
Who do you call
Foal breed?
Chur! respond to demand! The peasants hesitated.
They are silent - and the priest is silent... -Who are you afraid of meeting?
Walking the path?
Chur! respond to demand! They groan, shift,
They are silent!
- Who are you writing about?
You are joker fairy tales,
And the songs are obscene
And all sorts of blasphemy?.. Mother-priest, sedate,
Popov's innocent daughter,
Every seminarian -
How do you honor?
To catch whom, like a gelding,
Shout: ho-ho-ho?.. The boys looked down
They are silent - and the priest is silent...
The peasants thought
And pop with a wide hat
I waved it in my face
Yes, I looked at the sky.
In the spring, when the grandchildren are small,
With the ruddy sun-grandfather
The clouds are playing:
Here's the right side
One continuous cloud
Covered - clouded,
It got dark and cried:
Rows of gray threads
They hung to the ground.
And closer, above the peasants,
From small, torn,
Happy clouds
The red sun laughs
Like a girl from the sheaves.
But the cloud has moved,
Pop covers himself with a hat -
Be in heavy rain.
And the right side
Already bright and joyful,
There the rain stops.
It's not rain, it's a miracle of God:
There with golden threads
Hanging skeins... “Not ourselves... by parents
That’s how we…” – Gubin brothers
They finally said.
And others echoed:
“Not on your own, but on your parents!”
And the priest said: “Amen!”
Sorry, Orthodox!
Not in judging your neighbor,
And at your request
I told you the truth.
Such is the honor of a priest
In the peasantry. And the landowners... “You’re passing them, the landowners!
We know them! - Now let's see, brothers,
From where wealth
Is Popovskoye coming?..
At a time not far away
Russian Empire
Noble estates
It was full.
And the landowners lived there,
Famous owners
There are none now!
Been fruitful and multiply
And they let us live.
What weddings were played there,
That children were born
On free bread!
Although often tough,
However, willing
Those were the gentlemen
They did not shy away from the arrival:
They got married here
Our children were baptized
They came to us to repent,
We sang their funeral service
And if it did happen,
That a landowner lived in the city,
That's probably how I'll die
Came to the village.
If he dies accidentally,
And then he will punish you firmly
Bury him in the parish.
Look, to the village temple
On a mourning chariot
Six horse heirs
The dead man is being transported -
Good correction for the butt,
For the laity, a holiday is a holiday...
But now it’s not the same!
Like the tribe of Judah,
The landowners dispersed
Across distant foreign lands
And native to Rus'.
Now there's no time for pride
Lie in native possession
Next to fathers, grandfathers,
And there are many properties
Let's go to the profiteers.
Oh sleek bones
Russian, noble!
Where are you not buried?
In what land are you not? Then, the article... schismatics...
I'm not a sinner, I haven't lived
Nothing from the schismatics.
Fortunately, there was no need:
In my parish there are
Living in Orthodoxy
Two thirds of the parishioners.
And there are such volosts,
Where there are almost all schismatics,
So what about the butt? Everything in the world is changeable,
The world itself will pass away...
Laws formerly strict
To the schismatics, they softened,
And with them the priest
The income has come.
The landowners moved away
They don't live in estates
And die in old age
They don't come to us anymore.
Rich landowners
Pious old ladies,
Which died out
Who have settled down
Near monasteries,
Nobody wears a cassock now
He won’t give you your butt!
No one will embroider the air...
Live with only peasants,
Collect worldly hryvnias,
Yes, pies on holidays,
Yes, holy eggs.
The peasant himself needs
And I would be glad to give, but there’s nothing... And then not everyone
And the peasant's penny is sweet.
Our benefits are meager,
Sands, swamps, mosses,
The little beast goes from hand to mouth,
Bread will be born on its own,
And if it gets better
The damp earth is the nurse,
So a new problem:
There is nowhere to go with the bread!
There's a need, you'll sell it
For sheer trifle,
And then there’s a crop failure!
Then pay through the nose,
Sell the cattle.
Pray, Orthodox Christians!
Great trouble threatens
And this year:
The winter was fierce
Spring is rainy
It should have been sowing long ago,
And there is water in the fields!
Have mercy, Lord!
Send a cool rainbow
To our heavens!
(Taking off his hat, the shepherd crosses himself,
And the listeners too.)
Our villages are poor,
And the peasants in them are sick
Yes, women are sad,
Nurses, drinkers,
Slaves, pilgrims
And eternal workers,
Lord give them strength!
With so much work for pennies
Life is hard!
It happens to the sick
You will come: not dying,
The peasant family is scary
At that hour when she has to
Lose your breadwinner!
Give a farewell message to the deceased
And support in the remaining
You try your best
The spirit is cheerful! And here to you
The old woman, the mother of the dead man,
Look, he's reaching out with the bony one,
Calloused hand.
The soul will turn over,
How they jingle in this little hand
Two copper coins!
Of course, it's a clean thing -
I demand retribution
If you don’t take it, you have nothing to live with.
Yes a word of comfort
Freezes on the tongue
And as if offended
You will go home... Amen... Finished the speech - and the gelding
Pop lightly whipped.
The peasants parted
They bowed low.
The horse trudged slowly.
And six comrades,
It's like we agreed
They attacked with reproaches,
With selected large swearing
To poor Luka:
- What, did you take it? stubborn head!
Country club!
That's where the argument gets into! -
"Nobles of the bell -
The priests live like princes.
They're going under the sky
Popov's tower,
The priest's fiefdom is buzzing -
Loud bells -
For the whole God's world.
For three years I, little ones,
He lived with the priest as a worker,
Raspberries are not life!
Popova porridge - with butter.
Popov pie - with filling,
Popov's cabbage soup - with smelt!
Popov's wife is fat,
The priest's daughter is white,
Popov's horse is fat,
The priest's bee is well-fed,
How the bell rings!”
- Well, here's what you've praised
A priest's life!
Why were you yelling and showing off?
Getting into a fight, anathema?
Wasn't that what I was thinking of taking?
What's a beard like a shovel?
Like a goat with a beard
I walked around the world before,
Than the forefather Adam,
And he is considered a fool
And now he’s a goat!.. Luke stood, kept silent,
I was afraid they wouldn't hit me
Comrades, stand by.
It came to be so,
Yes, to the happiness of the peasant
The road is bent -
The face is priestly stern
Appeared on the hill... CHAPTER II. RURAL FAIR
No wonder our wanderers
They scolded the wet one,
Cold spring.
The peasant needs spring
And early and friendly,
And here - even a wolf howl!
The sun does not warm the earth,
And the rainy clouds
Like milk cows
They're walking across the sky.
The snow has gone and the greenery
Not a grass, not a leaf!
The water is not removed
The earth doesn't dress
Green bright velvet
And like a dead man without a shroud,
Lies under a cloudy sky
Sad and naked. I feel sorry for the poor peasant
And I’m even more sorry for the cattle;
Having fed meager supplies,
The owner of the twig
He drove her into the meadows,
What should I take there? Chernekhonko!
Only on Nikola Veshny
The weather has cleared up
Green fresh grass
The cattle feasted. It's a hot day. Under the birch trees
The peasants are making their way
They chatter among themselves:
“We’re going through one village,
Let's go another - empty!
And today is a holiday,
Where have the people gone?..”
Walking through the village - on the street
Some guys are small,
There are old women in the houses,
Or even completely locked
Lockable gates.
Castle - a faithful dog:
Doesn't bark, doesn't bite,
But he doesn’t let me into the house!
We passed the village and saw
Mirror in green frame:
The edges are full of ponds.
Swallows are flying over the pond;
Some mosquitoes
Agile and skinny
Leaping, as if on dry land,
They walk on the water.
Along the banks, in the broom,
The corncrakes are creaking.
On a long, shaky raft
Thick blanket with roller
Stands like a plucked haystack,
Tucking the hem.
On the same raft
A duck sleeps with her ducklings...
Chu! horse snoring!
The peasants looked at once
And we saw over the water
Two heads: a man's.
Curly and dark,
With an earring (the sun was blinking
On that white earring),
The other is horse
With a rope, five fathoms.
The man takes the rope in his mouth,
The man swims - and the horse swims,
The man neighed - and the horse neighed.
They're swimming and screaming! Under the woman
Under the small ducklings
The raft moves freely. I caught up with the horse - grab it by the withers!
He jumped up and rode out into the meadow
Baby: white body,
And the neck is like tar;
Water flows in streams
From the horse and from the rider. “What do you have in your village?
Neither old nor small,
How did all the people die out?
- We went to the village of Kuzminskoye,
Today there is a fair
And the temple holiday. -
“How far is Kuzminskoye?” - Yes, it will be about three miles. “Let's go to the village of Kuzminskoye,
Let's watch the fair!" -
The men decided
And you thought to yourself:
"Isn't that where he's hiding?
Who lives happily?..” Kuzminskoe rich,
And what’s more, it’s dirty
Trading village.
It stretches along the slope,
Then it descends into the ravine.
And there again on the hill -
How can there not be dirt here?
There are two ancient churches in it,
One Old Believer,
Another Orthodox
House with the inscription: school,
Empty, packed tightly,
A hut with one window,
With the image of a paramedic,
Drawing blood.
There is a dirty hotel
Decorated with a sign
(With a big nosed teapot
Tray in the hands of the bearer,
And small cups
Like a goose with goslings,
That kettle is surrounded)
There are permanent shops
Like a district
Gostiny Dvor… Strangers came to the square:
There are a lot of different goods
And apparently-invisibly
To the people! Isn't it fun?
It seems there is no godfather,
And, as if in front of icons,
Men without hats.
Such a side thing!
Look where they go
Peasant shliks:
In addition to the wine warehouse,
Taverns, restaurants,
A dozen damask shops,
Three inns,
Yes, “Rensky cellar”,
Yes, a couple of taverns.
Eleven zucchinis
Set for the holiday
Tents in the village.
Each has five carriers;
The carriers are good guys
Trained, mature,
And they can’t keep up with everything,
Can't cope with change!
Look what's stretched out
Peasant hands with hats,
With scarves, with mittens.
Oh Orthodox thirst,
How great are you!
Just to shower my darling,
And there they will get the hats,
When the market leaves. Over the drunken heads
The spring sun is shining...
Intoxicatingly, vociferously, festively,
Colorful, red all around!
The guys' pants are corduroy,
Striped vests,
Shirts of all colors;
The women are wearing red dresses,
The girls have braids with ribbons,
The winches are floating!
And there are still some tricks,
Dressed like a metropolitan -
And it expands and sulks
Hoop hem!
If you step in, they will dress up!
At ease, newfangled women,
Fishing gear for you
Wear under skirts!
Looking at the smart women,
The Old Believers are furious
Tovarke says:
“Be hungry! be hungry!
Marvel at how the seedlings are soaked,
That the spring flood is worse
It's worth up to Petrov!
Since women began
Dress up in red calico, -
The forests don't rise
At least not this bread!” - Why are the calicoes red?
Have you done something wrong here, mother?
I can't imagine! -
“And those French calicoes -
Painted with dog blood!
Well... do you understand now?..” They were jostling around the horse,
Along the hill where they are piled up
Roe deer, rakes, harrows,
Hooks, trolley machines,
Rims, axes.
Trade was brisk there,
With God, with jokes,
With a healthy, loud laugh.
And how can you not laugh?
The guy is kind of tiny
I went and tried the rims:
I bent one - I don’t like it,
He bent the other one and pushed.
How will the rim straighten out?
Click on the guy's forehead!
A man roars over the rim,
"Elm club"
Scolds the fighter.
Another arrived with different
Wooden crafts -
And he dumped the whole cart!
Drunk! The axle broke
And he began to do it -
The ax broke! Changed my mind
Man over an ax
Scolds him, reproaches him,
As if it does the job:
“You scoundrel, not an axe!
Empty service, nothing
And he didn’t serve that one.
All your life you bowed,
But I was never affectionate!” The wanderers went to the shops:
They admire handkerchiefs,
Ivanovo chintz,
Harnesses, new shoes,
A product of the Kimryaks.
At that shoe shop
The strangers laugh again:
There are goat shoes here
Grandfather traded with granddaughter
I asked about the price five times,
He turned it over in his hands and looked around:
The product is first class!
“Well, uncle! two two hryvnia
Pay up or get lost!” -
The merchant told him.
- Wait a minute! - Admires
An old man with a tiny shoe,
This is what he says:
- I don’t care about my son-in-law, and my daughter will remain silent,
I feel sorry for my granddaughter! Hanged herself
On the neck, fidget:
“Buy a hotel, grandpa.
Buy it!” – Silk head
The face is tickled, caressed,
Kisses the old man.
Wait, barefoot crawler!
Wait, spinning top! Goats
I'll buy some boots...
Vavilushka boasted,
Both old and young
He promised me gifts,
And he drank himself to a penny!
How my eyes are shameless
Will I show it to my family?.. I don’t care about my son-in-law, and my daughter will remain silent,
The wife doesn’t care, let her grumble!
And I feel sorry for my granddaughter!.. - I went again
About my granddaughter! Killing himself!.. The people have gathered, listening,
Don't laugh, feel sorry;
Happen, work, bread
They would help him
And take out two two-kopeck pieces -
So you will be left with nothing.
Yes, there was a man here
Pavlusha Veretennikov
(What kind, rank,
The men didn't know
However, they called him “master”.
He was very good at making jokes,
He wore a red shirt,
Cloth girl,
Grease Boots;
Sang Russian songs smoothly
And he loved listening to them.
Many have seen him
In the inn courtyards,
In taverns, in taverns.)
So he helped Vavila -
I bought him boots.
Vavilo grabbed them
And so he was! - For joy
Thanks even to the master
Old man forgot to say
But other peasants
So they were consoled
So happy, as if everyone
He gave it in rubles!
There was also a bench here
With paintings and books,
Ofeni stocked up
Your goods in it.
“Do you need generals?” -
The burning merchant asked them.
“And give me generals!
Yes, only you, according to your conscience,
To be real -
Thicker, more menacing." “Wonderful! the way you look! -
The merchant said with a grin, -
It's not a matter of complexion..." - What is it? You're kidding, friend!
Rubbish, perhaps, is it desirable to sell?
Where are we going to go with her?
You're being naughty! Before the peasant
All generals are equal
Like cones on a spruce tree:
To sell the ugly one,
PART ONEPROLOGUE
In what year - calculate
Guess what land?
On the sidewalk
Seven men came together:
Seven temporarily obliged,
A tightened province,
Terpigoreva County,
Empty parish,
From adjacent villages:
Zaplatova, Dyryavina,
Razutova, Znobishina,
Gorelova, Neelova -
There is also a poor harvest,
They came together and argued:
Who has fun?
Free in Rus'? Roman said: to the landowner,
Demyan said: to the official,
Luke said: ass.
To the fat-bellied merchant! -
The Gubin brothers said,
Ivan and Metrodor.
Old man Pakhom pushed
And he said, looking at the ground:
To the noble boyar,
To the sovereign minister.
And Prov said: to the king... The guy's a bull: he'll get in trouble
What a whim in the head -
Stake her from there
You can’t knock them out: they resist,
Everyone stands on their own!
Is this the kind of argument they started?
What do passers-by think?
You know, the kids found the treasure
And they share among themselves...
Each one in his own way
Left the house before noon:
That path led to the forge,
He went to the village of Ivankovo
Call Father Prokofy
Baptize the child.
Groin honeycomb
Carried to the market in Velikoye,
And the two Gubina brothers
So easy with a halter
Catch a stubborn horse
They went to their own herd.
It's high time for everyone
Return on your own way -
They are walking side by side!
They walk as if they are being chased
Behind them are gray wolves,
What's further is quick.
They go - they reproach!
They scream - they won’t come to their senses!
But time doesn’t wait. They didn’t notice the dispute
As the red sun set,
How evening came.
I'd probably kiss you all night
So they went - where, not knowing,
If only they met a woman,
Gnarled Durandiha,
She didn’t shout: “Reverends!
Where are you looking at night?
Have you decided to go?..” She asked, she laughed,
Whipped, witch, gelding
And she rode off at a gallop... “Where?..” - they looked at each other
Our men are here
They stand, silent, looking down...
The night has long since passed,
The stars lit up frequently
In the high skies
The moon has surfaced, the shadows are black
The road was cut
Zealous walkers.
Oh shadows! black shadows!
Who won't you catch up with?
Who won't you overtake?
Only you, black shadows,
You can't catch it - you can't hug it! To the forest, to the path-path
Pakhom looked, remained silent,
I looked - my mind scattered
And finally he said: "Well! goblin nice joke
He played a joke on us!
No way, after all, we are almost
We've gone thirty versts!
Now tossing and turning home -
We're tired - we won't get there,
Let's sit down - there's nothing to do.
Let's rest until the sun!..” Blaming the trouble on the devil,
Under the forest along the path
The men sat down.
They lit a fire, formed a formation,
Two people ran for vodka,
And the others as long as
The glass was made
The birch bark has been touched.
The vodka arrived soon.
The snack has arrived -
The men are feasting! They drank three kosushki,
We ate and argued
Again: who has fun living?
Free in Rus'?
Roman shouts: to the landowner,
Demyan shouts: to the official,
Luka shouts: ass;
Kupchina fat-bellied, -
The Gubin brothers are shouting,
Ivan and Mitrodor;
Pakhom shouts: to the brightest
To the noble boyar,
To the sovereign minister,
And Prov shouts: to the king! It took more than before
Perky men,
They swear obscenely,
No wonder they grab it
In each other's hair... Look - they've already grabbed it!
Roman is pushing Pakhomushka,
Demyan pushes Luka.
And the two Gubina brothers
They iron the hefty Provo, -
And everyone shouts his own! A booming echo woke up,
Let's go for a walk,
Let's go scream and shout
As if to tease
Stubborn men.
To the king! - heard to the right
To the left responds:
Ass! ass! ass!
The whole forest was in commotion
With flying birds
Swift-footed beasts
And creeping reptiles, -
And a groan, and a roar, and a roar! First of all, little gray bunny
From a nearby bush
Suddenly he jumped out, as if disheveled,
And he ran away!
Small jackdaws follow him
Birch trees were raised at the top
A nasty, sharp squeak.
And then there’s the warbler
Tiny chick with fright
Fell from the nest;
The warbler chirps and cries,
Where is the chick? – he won’t find it!
Then the old cuckoo
I woke up and thought
Someone to cuckoo;
Accepted ten times
Yes, I got lost every time
And started again...
Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo!
The bread will begin to spike,
You'll choke on an ear of corn -
You won't cuckoo!
Seven eagle owls flew together,
Admiring the carnage
From seven big trees,
They're laughing, night owls!
And their eyes are yellow
They burn like burning wax
Fourteen candles!
And the raven, a smart bird,
Arrived, sitting on a tree
Right by the fire.
Sits and prays to the devil,
To be slapped to death
Which one!
Cow with a bell
That I got lost in the evening
From the herd, I heard a little
Human voices -
She came to the fire and stared
Eyes on the men
I listened to crazy speeches
And I began, my dear,
Moo, moo, moo! The stupid cow moos
Small jackdaws squeak.
The boys are screaming,
And the echo echoes everyone.
He has only one concern -
Teasing honest people
Scare the boys and women!
Nobody saw him
And everyone has heard,
Without a body - but it lives,
Without a tongue - screams! Owl - Zamoskvoretskaya
The princess is immediately mooing,
Flies over the peasants
Crashing on the ground,
About the bushes with the wing... The fox herself is cunning,
Out of womanish curiosity,
Snuck up on the men
I listened, I listened
And she walked away, thinking:
“And the devil won’t understand them!”
Indeed: the debaters themselves
They hardly knew, they remembered -
What are they making noise about... Having bruised my sides quite a bit
To each other, we came to our senses
Finally, the peasants
They drank from a puddle,
Washed, freshened up,
Sleep began to tilt them...
Meanwhile, the tiny chick,
Little by little, half a seedling,
Flying low,
I got close to the fire. Pakhomushka caught him,
He brought it to the fire and looked at it
And he said: “Little bird,
And the marigold is awesome!
I breathe and you'll roll off your palm,
If I sneeze, you'll roll into the fire,
If I click, you'll roll around dead
But you, little bird,
Stronger than a man!
The wings will soon get stronger,
Bye bye! wherever you want
That's where you'll fly!
Oh, you little birdie!
Give us your wings
We'll fly around the whole kingdom,
Let's see, let's explore,
Let's ask around and find out:
Who lives happily?
Is it at ease in Rus'? “You wouldn’t even need wings,
If only we had some bread
Half a pound a day, -
And so we would Mother Rus'
They tried it on with their feet!” -
Said the gloomy Prov. “Yes, a bucket of vodka,” -
They added eagerly
Before vodka, the Gubin brothers,
Ivan and Metrodor. “Yes, in the morning there would be cucumbers
Ten of salty ones,” -
The men were joking.
“And at noon I would like a jug
Cold kvass." “And in the evening, have a cup of tea
Have some hot tea..." While they were talking,
The warbler whirled and whirled
Above them: listened to everything
And she sat down by the fire.
Chiviknula, jumped up
And in a human voice
Pahomu says: “Let the chick go free!
For a chick for a small one
I will give a large ransom." - What will you give? -
“I’ll give you some bread
Half a pound a day
I'll give you a bucket of vodka,
I'll give you some cucumbers in the morning,
And at noon, sour kvass,
And in the evening, tea!” - And where, little birdie, -
The Gubin brothers asked,
You will find wine and bread
Are you like seven men? - “If you find it, you will find it yourself.
And I, little birdie,
I'll tell you how to find it." - Tell! -
"Walk through the forest,
Against pillar thirty
Just a mile away:
Come to the clearing,
They are standing in that clearing
Two old pine trees
Under these pine trees
The box is buried.
Get her, -
That magic box:
It contains a self-assembled tablecloth,
Whenever you wish,
He will feed you and give you something to drink!
Just say quietly:
"Hey! self-assembled tablecloth!
Treat the men!”
According to your wishes,
At my command,
Everything will appear immediately.
Now let the chick go!” - Wait! we are poor people
We are going on a long journey, -
Pakhom answered her. -
I see you are a wise bird,
Respect old clothes
Bewitch us! - So that the peasant Armenians
Worn, not torn down! -
Roman demanded. - So that fake bast shoes
They served, they didn’t crash, -
Demyan demanded. - Damn the louse, vile flea
She didn’t breed in shirts, -
Luka demanded. - If only he could spoil... -
The Gubins demanded... And the bird answered them:
“The tablecloth is all self-assembled
Repair, wash, dry
You will... Well, let me go!..” Opening your palm wide,
He released the chick with his groin.
He let it in - and the tiny chick,
Little by little, half a seedling,
Flying low,
Headed towards the hollow.
A warbler flew behind him
And on the fly she added:
“Look, mind you, one thing!
How much food can he bear?
Womb - then ask,
And you can ask for vodka
Exactly a bucket a day.
If you ask more,
And once and twice - it will be fulfilled
At your request,
And the third time there will be trouble!
And the warbler flew away
With your birth chick,
And the men in single file
We reached for the road
Look for pillar thirty.
Found! - They walk silently
Straightforward, straight forward
Through the dense forest,
Every step counts.
And how they measured the mile,
We saw a clearing -
They are standing in that clearing
Two old pine trees...
The peasants dug around
Got that box
Opened and found
That tablecloth is self-assembled!
They found it and cried out at once:
“Hey, self-assembled tablecloth!
Treat the men!”
Lo and behold, the tablecloth unfolded,
Where did they come from?
Two hefty arms
They put a bucket of wine,
They piled up a mountain of bread
And they hid again.
“Why are there no cucumbers?”
“Why is there no hot tea?”
“Why is there no cold kvass?”
Everything appeared suddenly...
The peasants got loose
They sat down by the tablecloth.
There's a feast here!
Kissing for joy
They promise each other
Don't fight in vain,
But the matter is really controversial
According to reason, according to God,
On the honor of the story -
Don't toss and turn in the houses,
Don't see your wives
Not with the little guys
Not with old people,
As long as the matter is moot
No solution will be found
Until they find out
No matter what for certain:
Who lives happily?
Free in Rus'?
Having made such a vow,
In the morning like dead
The men fell asleep...
One of the most famous works of Nikolai Nekrasov is the poem “Who Lives Well in Rus'”, which is distinguished not only by its deep philosophical meaning and social acuity, but also by its bright, original characters - these are seven simple Russian men who got together and argued about who “ life is free and joyful in Rus'.” The poem was first published in 1866 in the Sovremennik magazine. The publication of the poem was resumed three years later, but the tsarist censorship, seeing the content as an attack on the autocratic regime, did not allow it to be published. The poem was published in full only after the revolution in 1917.
The poem “Who Lives Well in Rus'” became the central work in the work of the great Russian poet; it is his ideological and artistic pinnacle, the result of his thoughts and reflections on the fate of the Russian people and on the roads leading to their happiness and well-being. These questions worried the poet throughout his life and ran like a red thread through his entire life. literary activity. Work on the poem lasted 14 years (1863-1877) and in order to create this “folk epic”, as the author himself called it, useful and understandable for the common people, Nekrasov made a lot of efforts, although in the end it was never finished (8 chapters were planned, 4 were written). A serious illness and then the death of Nekrasov disrupted his plans. Plot incompleteness does not prevent the work from having an acute social character.
Main storyline
The poem was begun by Nekrasov in 1863 after the abolition of serfdom, so its content touches on many problems that arose after the Peasant Reform of 1861. The poem has four chapters, they are united by a common plot about how seven ordinary men argued about who lives well in Rus' and who is truly happy. The plot of the poem touches on serious philosophical and social problems, built in the form of a journey through Russian villages, their “talking” names describe them perfectly Russian reality of that time: Dyryavina, Razutov, Gorelov, Zaplatov, Neurozhaikin, etc. In the first chapter, called “Prologue,” the men meet on a highway and start their own dispute; in order to resolve it, they go on a trip to Russia. On the way, the disputing men meet a variety of people, these are peasants, merchants, landowners, priests, beggars, and drunkards, they see a wide variety of pictures from people’s lives: funerals, weddings, fairs, elections, etc. .
Meeting different people, the men ask them the same question: how happy they are, but both the priest and the landowner complain about the deterioration of life after the abolition of serfdom, only a few of all the people they meet at the fair admit that they are truly happy.
In the second chapter, entitled “The Last One,” wanderers come to the village of Bolshie Vakhlaki, whose inhabitants, after the abolition of serfdom, in order not to upset the old count, continue to pose as serfs. Nekrasov shows readers how they were then cruelly deceived and robbed by the count's sons.
The third chapter, entitled “Peasant Woman,” describes the search for happiness among the women of that time, the wanderers meet with Matryona Korchagina in the village of Klin, she tells them about her long-suffering fate and advises them not to look for happy people among Russian women.
In the fourth chapter, entitled “A Feast for the Whole World,” wandering seekers of truth find themselves at a feast in the village of Valakhchin, where they understand that the questions they ask people about happiness concern all Russian people, without exception. The ideological finale of the work is the song “Rus”, which originated in the head of a participant in the feast, the son of the parish sexton Grigory Dobrosklonov:
« You're miserable too
you are abundant
you and the omnipotent
Mother Rus'!»
Main characters
The question of who is the main character of the poem remains open, formally these are the men who argued about happiness and decided to go on a trip to Russia to decide who is right, however, the poem clearly states that main character poems - the entire Russian people, perceived as a single whole. The images of the wandering men (Roman, Demyan, Luka, the brothers Ivan and Mitrodor Gubin, the old man Pakhom and Prov) are practically not revealed, their characters are not drawn, they act and express themselves as a single organism, while the images of the people they meet, on the contrary, are painted very carefully, With big amount details and nuances.
One of prominent representatives a man from the people can be called the son of the parish clerk Grigory Dobrosklonov, who was presented by Nekrasov as a people's intercessor, educator and savior. He is one of the key characters and the entire final chapter is devoted to the description of his image. Grisha, like no one else, is close to the people, understands their dreams and aspirations, wants to help them and composes wonderful “good songs” for people that bring joy and hope to those around them. Through his lips, the author proclaims his views and beliefs, gives answers to the pressing social and moral questions raised in the poem. Characters such as seminarian Grisha and honest mayor Yermil Girin do not seek happiness for themselves, they dream of making all people happy at once and devote their entire lives to this. The main idea of the poem follows from Dobrosklonov’s understanding of the very concept of happiness; this feeling can be fully felt only by those who, without reasoning, give their lives for a just cause in the fight for people’s happiness.
Main female character The poem is Matryona Korchagina; the entire third chapter is devoted to a description of her tragic fate, typical of all Russian women. Drawing her portrait, Nekrasov admires her straight, proud posture, simple attire and the amazing beauty of a simple Russian woman (large, stern eyes, rich eyelashes, stern and dark). Her whole life is spent in hard peasant work, she has to endure beatings from her husband and brazen attacks from the manager, she was destined to survive tragic death his firstborn, hunger and deprivation. She lives only for the sake of her children, and without hesitation accepts punishment with rods for her guilty son. The author admires her strength mother's love, endurance and strong character, sincerely pities her and sympathizes with all Russian women, for Matryona’s fate is the fate of all peasant women of that time, suffering from lawlessness, poverty, religious fanaticism and superstition, and lack of qualified medical care.
The poem also describes the images of landowners, their wives and sons (princes, nobles), depicts the landowners' servants (lackeys, servants, courtyard servants), priests and other clergy, kind governors and cruel German managers, artists, soldiers, wanderers, a huge number minor characters, which give the folk lyric-epic poem “Who Lives Well in Rus'” that unique polyphony and epic breadth, making this work a real masterpiece and the pinnacle of everything literary creativity Nekrasova.
Analysis of the poem
The problems raised in the work are diverse and complex, they affect the lives of various strata of society, including a difficult transition to a new way of life, problems of drunkenness, poverty, obscurantism, greed, cruelty, oppression, the desire to change something, etc.
However, the key problem is still of this work- the search for simple human happiness, which each of the characters understands in their own way. For example, rich people, such as priests or landowners, think only about their own well-being, this is happiness for them, poorer people, such as ordinary peasants, are happy and happy simple things: staying alive after a bear attack, surviving a beating at work, etc.
The main idea of the poem is that the Russian people deserve to be happy, they deserve it with their suffering, blood and sweat. Nekrasov was convinced that one must fight for one’s happiness and it is not enough to make one person happy, because this will not solve the entire global problem as a whole; the poem calls for thinking and striving for happiness for everyone without exception.
Structural and compositional features
The compositional form of the work is distinctive; it is built in accordance with the laws of classical epic, i.e. each chapter can exist independently, and all together they represent a single whole work with a large number of characters and storylines.
The poem, according to the author himself, belongs to the genre of folk epic, it is written in unrhymed iambic trimeter, at the end of each line after stressed syllables there are two unstressed syllables (the use of dactylic casula), in some places there is iambic tetrameter to emphasize the folklore style of the work.
To make the poem understandable to the common man it uses many common words and expressions: village, breveshko, yarmonka, pustpoplyas, etc. The poem contains a large number of various examples of folk poetry, these are fairy tales, epics, various proverbs and sayings, folk songs of various genres. The language of the work is stylized by the author in the form of a folk song to improve ease of perception; at that time, the use of folklore was considered the best way of communication between the intelligentsia and the common people.
In the poem, the author used such means of artistic expression as epithets (“the sun is red”, “black shadows”, a free heart”, “poor people”), comparisons (“jumped out as if disheveled”, “the men fell asleep like the dead”), metaphors ( “the earth lies”, “the warbler is crying”, “the village is seething”). There is also a place for irony and sarcasm, various stylistic figures are used, such as addresses: “Hey, uncle!”, “Oh people, Russian people!”, various exclamations “Chu!”, “Eh, Eh!” etc.
The poem “Who Lives Well in Rus'” is the highest example of a work executed in the folk style of Nekrasov’s entire literary heritage. The elements and images of Russian used by the poet folklore give the work a bright originality, colorfulness and richness national color. What Nekrasov did in search of happiness main theme The poem is not at all accidental, because the entire Russian people have been searching for it for many thousands of years, this is reflected in its fairy tales, epics, legends, songs and other various folklore sources as a search for a treasure, a happy land, a priceless treasure. The theme of this work expressed the most cherished desire of the Russian people throughout its existence - to live happily in a society where justice and equality rule.
Year of writing: 1877
Reading time: Description of the work: The well-known poem Who Lives Well in Rus' was written in 1877 by the Russian writer Nikolai Nekrasov. It took many years to create it - Nekrasov worked on the poem from 1863-1877. It is interesting that Nekrasov had some ideas and thoughts back in the 50s. He thought of capturing in the poem Who Lives Well in Rus' as much as possible everything he knew about the people and heard from people’s mouths.
Read below summary poem Who Lives Well in Rus'. One day, seven men - recent serfs, and now temporarily obliged "from adjacent villages - Zaplatova, Dyryavina, Razutova, Znobishina, Gorelova, Neyolova, Neurozhaika, etc." meet on the main road. Instead of going their own way, the men start an argument about who lives happily and freely in Rus'. Each of them judges in his own way who is the main lucky person in Rus': a landowner, an official, a priest, a merchant, a noble boyar, a minister of sovereigns or a tsar. While arguing, they do not notice that they have taken a detour of thirty miles. Seeing that it is too late to return home, the men make a fire and continue the argument over vodka - which, of course, little by little develops into a fight. But a fight does not help resolve the issue that worries the men. The solution is found unexpectedly: one of the men, Pakhom, catches a warbler chick, and in order to free the chick, the warbler tells the men where they can find a self-assembled tablecloth. Now the men are provided with bread, vodka, cucumbers, kvass, tea - in a word, everything they need for a long journey. And besides, a self-assembled tablecloth will repair and wash their clothes! Having received all these benefits, the men make a vow to find out “who lives happily and freely in Rus'.” The first possible “lucky person” they meet along the way turns out to be a priest. (It was not right for the soldiers and beggars they met to ask about happiness!) But the priest’s answer to the question of whether his life is sweet disappoints the men. They agree with the priest that happiness lies in peace, wealth and honor. But the priest does not possess any of these benefits. In the haymaking, in the harvest, in the dead of autumn night, in the bitter frost, he must go to where there are the sick, the dying and those being born. And every time his soul hurts at the sight of funeral sobs and orphan's sadness - so much so that his hand does not rise to take copper coins - a pitiful reward for the demand. The landowners, who previously lived in family estates and got married here, baptized children, buried the dead, are now scattered not only throughout Rus', but also in distant foreign lands; there is no hope for their retribution. Well, the men themselves know how much respect the priest deserves: they feel embarrassed when the priest reproaches him for obscene songs and insults towards priests.
Realizing that the Russian priest is not one of the lucky ones, the men go to a holiday fair in the trading village of Kuzminskoye to ask people about happiness. In a rich and dirty village there are two churches, a tightly boarded up house with the sign “school”, a paramedic’s hut, a dirty hotel. But most of all in the village there are drinking establishments, in each of which they barely have time to cope with thirsty people. Old man Vavila cannot buy goatskin shoes for his granddaughter because he drank himself to a penny. It’s good that Pavlusha Veretennikov, a lover of Russian songs, whom everyone calls “master” for some reason, buys him the treasured gift. Male wanderers watch the farcical Petrushka, watch how the ladies stock up on books - but not Belinsky and Gogol, but portraits of unknown fat generals and works about “my lord stupid.” They also see how a busy trading day ends: widespread drunkenness, fights on the way home. However, the men are indignant at Pavlusha Veretennikov’s attempt to measure the peasant against the master’s standard. In their opinion, to a sober person it is impossible to live in Rus': he will not withstand either backbreaking labor or peasant misfortune; without drinking, bloody rain would pour out of the angry peasant soul. These words are confirmed by Yakim Nagoy from the village of Bosovo - one of those who “works until they die, drinks until they die.” Yakim believes that only pigs walk on the earth and never see the sky. During the fire, he himself did not save the money he had accumulated throughout his life, but the useless and beloved pictures hanging in the hut; he is sure that with the cessation of drunkenness, great sadness will come to Rus'. Male wanderers do not lose hope of finding people who live well in Rus'. But even for the promise of giving free water to the lucky ones, they fail to find them. For the sake of free booze, both the overworked worker, the paralyzed former servant who spent forty years licking the master’s plates with the best French truffle, and even ragged beggars are ready to declare themselves lucky.
Finally, someone tells them the story of Yermil Girin, the mayor in the estate of Prince Yurlov, who earned universal respect for his justice and honesty. When Girin needed money to buy the mill, the men lent it to him without even requiring a receipt. But Yermil is now unhappy: after the peasant revolt, he is in prison. The ruddy sixty-year-old landowner Gavrila Obolt-Obolduev tells the wandering peasants about the misfortune that befell the nobles after the peasant reform. He remembers how in the old days everything amused the master: villages, forests, fields, serf actors, musicians, hunters, who completely belonged to him. Obolt-Obolduev talks with emotion about how on the twelve holidays he invited his serfs to pray in the master's house - despite the fact that after this he had to drive the women away from the entire estate to wash the floors. And although the peasants themselves know that life in serfdom was far from the idyll depicted by Obolduev, they still understand: the great chain of serfdom, having broken, hit both the master, who was immediately deprived of his usual way of life, and the peasant. Desperate to find someone happy among the men, the wanderers decide to ask the women. The surrounding peasants remember that Matryona Timofeevna Korchagina lives in the village of Klin, whom everyone considers lucky. But Matryona herself thinks differently. In confirmation, she tells the wanderers the story of her life. Before her marriage, Matryona lived in a teetotal and wealthy peasant family. She married a stove-maker from a foreign village, Philip Korchagin. But the only happy night for her was that night when the groom persuaded Matryona to marry him; then the usual hopeless life of a village woman began. True, her husband loved her and beat her only once, but soon he went to work in St. Petersburg, and Matryona was forced to endure insults in her father-in-law’s family. The only one who felt sorry for Matryona was grandfather Savely, who was living out his life in the family after hard labor, where he ended up for the murder of the hated German manager. Savely told Matryona what Russian heroism is: it is impossible to defeat a peasant, because he “bends, but does not break.”
The birth of Demushka's first child brightened Matryona's life. But soon her mother-in-law forbade her to take the child into the field, and the old grandfather Savely did not keep an eye on the baby and fed him to pigs. In front of Matryona's eyes, judges who had arrived from the city performed an autopsy on her child. Matryona could not forget her firstborn, although after that she had five sons. One of them, the shepherd Fedot, once allowed a she-wolf to carry away a sheep. Matryona accepted the punishment assigned to her son. Then, being pregnant with her son Liodor, she was forced to go to the city to seek justice: her husband, bypassing the laws, was taken into the army. Matryona was then helped by the governor Elena Alexandrovna, for whom the whole family is now praying. By all peasant standards, Matryona Korchagina’s life can be considered happy. But it is impossible to tell about the invisible spiritual storm that passed through this woman - just like about unpaid mortal grievances, and about the blood of the firstborn. Matrena Timofeevna is convinced that a Russian peasant woman cannot be happy at all, because the keys to her happiness and free will are lost to God himself. At the height of haymaking, wanderers come to the Volga. Here they witness a strange scene. A noble family swims to the shore in three boats. The mowers, who had just sat down to rest, immediately jumped up to show the old master their zeal. It turns out that the peasants of the village of Vakhlachina help the heirs hide the abolition of serfdom from the crazy landowner Utyatin. The relatives of the Last-Duckling promise the men floodplain meadows for this. But after the long-awaited death of the Last One, the heirs forget their promises, and the whole peasant performance turns out to be in vain. Here, near the village of Vakhlachina, wanderers listen to peasant songs - corvée, hunger, soldier, salty - and stories about serfdom. One of these stories is about the exemplary slave Yakov the Faithful. Yakov's only joy was pleasing his master, the small landowner Polivanov. Tyrant Polivanov, in gratitude, hit Yakov in the teeth with his heel, which aroused even more in the lackey’s soul. great love. As Polivanov grew older, his legs became weak, and Yakov began to follow him like a child. But when Yakov’s nephew, Grisha, decided to marry the beautiful serf Arisha, Polivanov, out of jealousy, gave the guy as a recruit. Yakov started drinking, but soon returned to the master. And yet he managed to take revenge on Polivanov - the only way available to him, the lackey. Having taken the master into the forest, Yakov hanged himself right above him on a pine tree. Polivanov spent the night under the corpse of his faithful servant, driving away birds and wolves with groans of horror.
Another story - about two great sinners - is told to the men by God's wanderer Jonah Lyapushkin. The Lord awakened the conscience of the chieftain of the robbers Kudeyar. The robber atoned for his sins for a long time, but all of them were forgiven him only after he, in a surge of anger, killed the cruel Pan Glukhovsky. The wandering men also listen to the story of another sinner - Gleb the elder, who for money hid the last will of the late widower admiral, who decided to free his peasants. But not only wandering men think about people's happiness. The sexton’s son, seminarian Grisha Dobrosklonov, lives on Vakhlachin. In his heart, love for his late mother merged with love for all of Vakhlachina. For fifteen years Grisha knew for sure who he was ready to give his life to, for whom he was ready to die. He thinks of all the mysterious Rus' as a wretched, abundant, powerful and powerless mother, and expects that the indestructible power that he feels in his own soul will still be reflected in it. Such strong souls as Grisha Dobrosklonov’s are called by the angel of mercy to an honest path. Fate is preparing Grisha “a glorious path, a great name people's defender, consumption and Siberia." If the wandering men knew what was happening in the soul of Grisha Dobrosklonov, they would probably understand that they could already return to their native shelter, because the goal of their journey had been achieved.
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