And Solzhenitsyn is one day. Memories of the past

Solzhenitsyn wrote the story “One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich” in 1959. The work was first published in 1962 in the magazine New world" The story brought Solzhenitsyn worldwide fame and, according to researchers, influenced not only literature, but also the history of the USSR. The original author's title of the work is the story “Shch-854” ( serial number the main character Shukhov in a correctional camp).

Main characters

Shukhov Ivan Denisovich- a prisoner of a forced labor camp, a bricklayer, his wife and two daughters are waiting for him “in the wild.”

Caesar- a prisoner, “either he is Greek, or a Jew, or a gypsy,” before the camps “he made films for cinema.”

Other heroes

Tyurin Andrey Prokofievich- Brigadier of the 104th Prison Brigade. He was “dismissed from the ranks” of the army and ended up in a camp for being the son of a “kulak”. Shukhov knew him from the camp in Ust-Izhma.

Kildigs Ian– a prisoner who was given 25 years; Latvian, good carpenter.

Fetyukov- “jackal”, prisoner.

Alyoshka- prisoner, Baptist.

Gopchik- a prisoner, cunning, but harmless boy.

“At five o’clock in the morning, as always, the rise struck - with a hammer on the rail at the headquarters barracks.” Shukhov never woke up, but today he was “chilling” and “breaking.” Because the man did not get up for a long time, he was taken to the commandant’s office. Shukhov was threatened with a punishment cell, but he was punished only by washing the floors.

For breakfast in the camp there was balanda (liquid stew) of fish and black cabbage and porridge from magara. The prisoners slowly ate the fish, spat the bones onto the table, and then swept them onto the floor.

After breakfast, Shukhov went into the medical unit. A young paramedic who actually was former student literary institute, but under the patronage of the doctor he ended up in the medical unit and gave the man a thermometer. Showed 37.2. The paramedic suggested that Shukhov “stay at his own risk” to wait for the doctor, but still advised him to go to work.

Shukhov went into the barracks for rations: bread and sugar. The man divided the bread into two parts. I hid one under my padded jacket, and the second in the mattress. Baptist Alyoshka read the Gospel right there. The guy “so deftly stuffs this little book into a crack in the wall - they haven’t found it on a single search yet.”

The brigade went outside. Fetyukov tried to get Caesar to “sip” a cigarette, but Caesar was more willing to share with Shukhov. During the “shmona”, prisoners were forced to unbutton their clothes: they checked whether anyone had hidden a knife, food, or letters. People were frozen: “the cold has gotten under your shirt, now you can’t get rid of it.” The column of prisoners moved. “Due to the fact that he had breakfast without rations and ate everything cold, Shukhov felt unfed today.”

“A new year began, the fifty-first, and in it Shukhov had the right to two letters.” “Shukhov left the house on the twenty-third of June forty-one. On Sunday, people from Polomnia came from mass and said: war.” Shukhov's family was waiting for him at home. His wife hoped that upon returning home her husband would start a profitable business and build a new house.

Shukhov and Kildigs were the first foremen in the brigade. They were sent to insulate the turbine room and lay the walls with cinder blocks at the thermal power plant.

One of the prisoners, Gopchik, reminded Ivan Denisovich of his late son. Gopchik was imprisoned “for carrying milk to the Bendera people in the forest.”

Ivan Denisovich has almost served his sentence. In February 1942, “in the North-West, their entire army was surrounded, and nothing was thrown from the planes for them to eat, and there were no planes. They went so far as to cut off the hooves of dead horses.” Shukhov was captured, but soon escaped. However, “their own people,” having learned about the captivity, decided that Shukhov and other soldiers were “fascist agents.” It was believed that he was imprisoned “for treason”: he surrendered to German captivity, and then returned “because he was carrying out a task for German intelligence. What kind of task - neither Shukhov himself nor the investigator could come up with.”

Lunch break. The workers were not given extra food, the “sixes” got a lot, and the cook took away the good food. For lunch there was oatmeal porridge. It was believed that this was the “best porridge” and Shukhov even managed to deceive the cook and take two servings for himself. On the way to the construction site, Ivan Denisovich picked up a piece of a steel hacksaw.

The 104th brigade was “like a big family.” Work began to boil again: they were laying cinder blocks on the second floor of the thermal power plant. They worked until sunset. The foreman, jokingly, noted Good work Shukhova: “Well, how can we let you go free? Without you, the prison will cry!”

The prisoners returned to the camp. The men were harassed again, checking to see if they had taken anything from the construction site. Suddenly Shukhov felt in his pocket a piece of a hacksaw, which he had already forgotten about. It could be used to make a shoe knife and exchange it for food. Shukhov hid the hacksaw in his mitten and miraculously passed the test.

Shukhov took Caesar's place in line to receive the parcel. Ivan Denisovich himself did not receive the parcels: he asked his wife not to take them away from the children. In gratitude, Caesar gave Shukhov his dinner. In the dining room they served gruel again. Sipping the hot liquid, the man felt good: “here it is, the short moment for which the prisoner lives!”

Shukhov earned money “from private work” - he sewed slippers for someone, sewed a quilted jacket for someone. With the money he earned, he could buy tobacco and other necessary things. When Ivan Denisovich returned to his barracks, Caesar was already “humming over the parcel” and also gave Shukhov his ration of bread.

Caesar asked Shukhov for a knife and “got into debt to Shukhov again.” The check has begun. Ivan Denisovich, realizing that Caesar’s parcel could be stolen during the check, told him to pretend to be sick and go out last, while Shukhov would try to be the very first to run in after the check and look after the food. In gratitude, Caesar gave him “two biscuits, two lumps of sugar and one round slice of sausage.”

We talked with Alyosha about God. The guy said that you need to pray and be glad that you are in prison: “here you have time to think about your soul.” “Shukhov silently looked at the ceiling. He himself didn’t know whether he wanted it or not.”

“Shukhov fell asleep, completely satisfied.” “They didn’t put him in a punishment cell, they didn’t send the brigade to Sotsgorodok, he made porridge at lunch, the foreman closed the interest well, Shukhov laid the wall cheerfully, he didn’t get caught with a hacksaw on a search, he worked in the evening at Caesar’s and bought tobacco. And I didn’t get sick, I got over it.”

“The day passed, unclouded, almost happy.

There were three thousand six hundred and fifty-three such days in his period from bell to bell.

Because of leap years- three extra days were added..."

Conclusion

In the story “One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich,” Alexander Solzhenitsyn depicted the life of people who ended up in Gulag forced labor camps. Central theme work, according to Tvardovsky’s definition, is the victory of the human spirit over camp violence. Despite the fact that the camp was actually created to destroy the personality of the prisoners, Shukhov, like many others, manages to constantly wage an internal struggle, to remain human even in such difficult circumstances.

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Peasant and front-line soldier Ivan Denisovich Shukhov turned out to be “ state criminal”, “spy” and ended up in one of Stalin’s camps, like millions of Soviet people, convicted without guilt during the “cult of personality” and mass repressions. He left home on June 23, 1941, on the second day after the start of the war with Nazi Germany, “...in February 1942, their entire army was surrounded on the North-Western [Front], and nothing was thrown at them from the planes to eat, and there were no planes either. They went so far as to cut the hooves off dead horses, soak that cornea in water and eat it,” that is, the command of the Red Army abandoned its soldiers to die surrounded. Together with a group of fighters, Shukhov found himself in German captivity, fled from the Germans and miraculously made it to his own. A careless story about how he was in captivity led him to Soviet concentration camp, since the state security agencies indiscriminately considered all those who escaped from captivity to be spies and saboteurs.

The second part of Shukhov’s memories and reflections during long camp labors and a short rest in the barracks relates to his life in the village. From the fact that his relatives do not send him food (he himself refused the parcels in a letter to his wife), we understand that they are starving in the village no less than in the camp. The wife writes to Shukhov that collective farmers make a living by painting fake carpets and selling them to townspeople.

If we leave aside flashbacks and random information about life outside the barbed wire, the entire story takes exactly one day. In this short period of time, a panorama of camp life unfolds before us, a kind of “encyclopedia” of life in the camp.

Firstly, a whole gallery of social types and at the same time bright human characters: Caesar is a metropolitan intellectual, a former film figure, who, however, even in the camp leads a “lordly” life compared to Shukhov: he receives food parcels, enjoys some benefits during work ; Kavtorang - a repressed naval officer; an old convict who had been in tsarist prisons and hard labor (the old revolutionary guard, who had not found common language with the policies of Bolshevism in the 30s); Estonians and Latvians are the so-called “bourgeois nationalists”; Baptist Alyosha - exponent of the thoughts and lifestyle of a very heterogeneous religious Russia; Gopchik - sixteen year old teenager, whose fate shows that repression did not distinguish between children and adults. And Shukhov himself - characteristic representative the Russian peasantry with its special business acumen and organic way of thinking. Against the background of these people who suffered from repression, a different figure emerges - the head of the regime, Volkov, who regulates the lives of prisoners and, as it were, symbolizes the merciless communist regime.

Secondly, a detailed picture camp life and labor. Life in the camp remains life with its visible and invisible passions and subtle experiences. They are mainly related to the problem of getting food. They are fed little and poorly with terrible gruel with frozen cabbage and small fish. A kind of art of life in the camp is to get yourself an extra ration of bread and an extra bowl of gruel, and if you're lucky, a little tobacco. For this, one has to resort to the greatest tricks, currying favor with “authorities” like Caesar and others. At the same time, it is important to preserve your human dignity, not to become a “descended” beggar, like, for example, Fetyukov (however, there are few of them in the camp). This is important not even for lofty reasons, but out of necessity: a “descended” person loses the will to live and will certainly die. Thus, the question of preserving the human image within oneself becomes a question of survival. The second vital issue is the attitude towards forced labor. Prisoners, especially in winter, work hard, almost competing with each other and team with team, in order not to freeze and in a way “shorten” the time from overnight to overnight, from feeding to feeding. This terrible system is built on this incentive. collective work. But nevertheless, it does not completely destroy the natural joy of physical labor in people: the scene of the construction of a house by the team where Shukhov works is one of the most inspired in the story. The ability to work “correctly” (without overexerting, but also without shirking), as well as the ability to get extra rations for yourself, is also high art. As well as the ability to hide from the eyes of the guards a piece of saw that turns up, from which the camp craftsmen make miniature knives for exchange for food, tobacco, warm things... In relation to the guards who are constantly conducting “shmons”, Shukhov and the rest of the Prisoners are in the position of wild animals : they must be more cunning and dexterous than armed people who have the right to punish them and even shoot them for deviating from the camp regime. Deceiving the guards and camp authorities is also a high art.

The day the hero talks about was, in his opinion, own opinion, successful - “they didn’t put him in a punishment cell, they didn’t kick out the brigade to Sotsgorodok (working in a bare field in winter - editor’s note), at lunch he made porridge (received an extra portion - editor’s note), the foreman closed the interest well (evaluation system camp labor- approx. ed.), Shukhov laid out the wall cheerfully, didn’t get caught with a hacksaw on a search, worked in the evening at Caesar’s and bought tobacco. And he didn’t get sick, he got over it. The day passed, unclouded, almost happy. There were three thousand six hundred and fifty-three such days in his period from bell to bell. Due to leap years, three extra days were added...”

At the end of the story it is given short dictionary criminal expressions and specific camp terms and abbreviations that appear in the text.

At five o'clock in the morning, as always, the rise struck - with a hammer on the rail at the headquarters barracks. An intermittent ringing faintly passed through the glass, frozen into two fingers, and soon died down: it was cold, and the warden was reluctant to wave his hand for a long time.

The ringing died down, and outside the window everything was the same as in the middle of the night, when Shukhov got up to the bucket, there was darkness and darkness, and three yellow lanterns came through the window: two in the zone, one inside the camp.

And for some reason they didn’t go to unlock the barracks, and you never heard of the orderlies picking up the barrel on sticks to carry it out.

Shukhov never missed getting up, he always got up on it - before the divorce he had an hour and a half of his own time, not official, and whoever knows camp life can always earn extra money: sew someone a mitten cover from an old lining; give the rich brigade worker dry felt boots directly on his bed, so that he doesn’t have to trample barefoot around the pile, and doesn’t have to choose; or run through the quarters, where someone needs to be served, sweep or offer something; or go to the dining room to collect bowls from the tables and take them in piles to the dishwasher - they will also feed you, but there are a lot of hunters there, there is no end, and most importantly, if there is anything left in the bowl, you can’t resist, you will start licking the bowls. And Shukhov firmly remembered the words of his first brigadier Kuzyomin - he was an old camp wolf, he had been in prison for twelve years by the year nine hundred and forty-three, and he once said to his reinforcement, brought from the front, in a bare clearing by the fire:

- Here, guys, the law is the taiga. But people live here too. Here's who's dying in the camp: who's licking bowls, who's relying on the medical unit, and who's godfather goes to knock.

As for the godfather, of course, he turned down that. They save themselves. Only their care is on someone else’s blood.

Shukhov always got up when he got up, but today he didn’t get up. Since the evening he had been uneasy, either shivering or aching. And I didn’t get warm at night. In my sleep I felt like I was completely ill, and then I went away a little. I still didn’t want it to be morning.

But the morning came as usual.

And where can you get warm here - there is ice on the window, and on the walls along the junction with the ceiling throughout the entire barracks - a healthy barracks! - white cobweb. Frost.

Shukhov did not get up. He was lying on top linings, covering his head with a blanket and pea coat, and in a padded jacket, in one sleeve turned up, putting both feet together. He didn’t see, but from the sounds he understood everything that was happening in the barracks and in their brigade corner. So, heavily walking along the corridor, the orderlies carried one of the eight-bucket buckets. Considered disabled easy job, come on, take it out without spilling it! Here in the 75th brigade they slammed a bunch of felt boots from the dryer onto the floor. And here it is in ours (and today it was our turn to dry felt boots). The foreman and sergeant-at-arms put on their shoes in silence, and their lining creaks. The brigadier will now go to the bread-slicer, and the foreman will go to the headquarters barracks, to the contractors.

And not just to the contractors, as he goes every day, - Shukhov remembered: today fate is being decided - they want to transfer their 104th brigade from the construction of workshops to the new Sotsgorodok facility. And that Social Town is a bare field, in snowy ridges, and before you do anything there, you have to dig holes, put up poles and pull the barbed wire away from yourself - so as not to run away. And then build.

There, sure enough, there won’t be anywhere to warm up for a month – not a kennel. And if you can’t light a fire, what to heat it with? Work hard conscientiously - your only salvation.

The foreman is concerned and is going to settle things. Some other brigade, sluggish, should be pushed there instead. Of course, you can’t come to an agreement empty-handed. The senior foreman had to carry half a kilo of fat. Or even a kilogram.

The test is not a loss, shouldn't we try it in the medical unit? touch, free from work for a day? Well, the whole body is literally torn apart.

And also, which guard is on duty today?

On duty - I remembered - Ivan and a half, a thin and long black-eyed sergeant. The first time you look, it’s downright scary, but they recognized him as one of the most flexible of all the guards on duty: he doesn’t put him in a punishment cell, or drag him to the head of the regime. So you can lie down until you go to barracks nine in the dining room.

The carriage shook and swayed. Two stood up at once: at the top was Shukhov’s neighbor, Baptist Alyoshka, and at the bottom was Buinovsky, a former captain of the second rank, cavalry officer.

The old orderlies, having carried out both buckets, began to argue about who should go get boiling water. They scolded affectionately, like women. An electric welder from the 20th brigade barked:

- Hey, wicks!- and threw a felt boot at them. - I’ll make peace!

The felt boot thudded against the post. They fell silent.

In the neighboring brigade the brigadier muttered slightly:

- Vasil Fedorych! The food table was distorted, you bastards: it was nine hundred and four, but it became only three. Who should I miss?

He said this quietly, but of course the whole brigade heard and hid: a piece would be cut off from someone in the evening.

And Shukhov lay and lay on the compressed sawdust of his mattress. At least one side would take it - either the chill would strike, or the aching would go away. And neither this nor that.

While the Baptist was whispering prayers, Buinovsky returned from the breeze and announced to no one, but as if maliciously:

- Well, hold on, Red Navy men! Thirty degrees true!

And Shukhov decided to go to the medical unit.

And then someone’s powerful hand pulled off his padded jacket and blanket. Shukhov took off his pea coat from his face and stood up. Below him, with his head level with the top bunk of the carriage, stood a thin Tatar.

This means that he was not on duty in line and sneaked in quietly.

- Another eight hundred fifty-four! - Tatar read from the white patch on the back of his black pea coat. – Three days kondeya with output!

And as soon as his special, strangled voice was heard, in the entire dim barracks, where not every light bulb was on, where two hundred people were sleeping on fifty bedbug-lined carriages, everyone who had not yet gotten up immediately began to stir and hastily get dressed.

- For what, citizen chief? – Shukhov asked, giving his voice more pity than he felt.

Once you're sent back to work, it's still half a cell, and they'll give you hot food, and there's no time to think about it. A complete punishment cell is when without withdrawal.

– Didn’t get up on the way up? “Let’s go to the commandant’s office,” Tatar explained lazily, because he, Shukhov, and everyone understood what the condo was for.

Nothing was expressed on Tatar’s hairless, wrinkled face. He turned around, looking for someone else, but everyone was already, some in the semi-darkness, some under the light bulb, on the first floor of the carriages and on the second, pushing their legs into black cotton trousers with numbers on the left knee or, already dressed, wrapping them up and hurrying to the exit - wait for Tatar in the yard.

If Shukhov had been given a punishment cell for something else, where he deserved it, it wouldn’t have been so offensive. It was a shame that he was always the first to get up. But it was impossible to ask Tatarin for time off, he knew. And, continuing to ask for time off just for the sake of order, Shukhov, still wearing cotton trousers that had not been taken off for the night (a worn, dirty flap was also sewn above the left knee, and the number Shch-854 was inscribed on it in black, already faded paint), put on a padded jacket (she had two such numbers on her - one on the chest and one on the back), chose his felt boots from the pile on the floor, put on his hat (with the same flap and number on the front) and followed Tatarin out.

The entire 104th brigade saw Shukhov being taken away, but no one said a word: there was no point, and what can you say? The brigadier could have intervened a little, but he wasn’t there. And Shukhov also didn’t say a word to anyone, and didn’t tease Tatarin. They'll save breakfast and they'll guess.

So the two of them left.

There was frost with a haze that took your breath away. Two large spotlights hit the zone crosswise from the far corner towers. The area and interior lights were on. There were so many of them that they completely illuminated the stars.

Felt boots creaking in the snow, the prisoners quickly ran about their business - some to the restroom, some to the storeroom, others to the parcel warehouse, others to hand over the cereal to the individual kitchen. All of them had their heads sunk into their shoulders, their peacoats were wrapped around them, and they were all cold, not so much from the frost as from the thought that they would have to spend a whole day in this frost.

And Tatar, in his old overcoat with stained blue buttonholes, walked smoothly, and the frost seemed to not bother him at all.

Among the works of Russian literature there is a whole list of those that were dedicated to contemporary reality by the authors. Today we will talk about one of the works of Alexander Isaevich Solzhenitsyn and present it summary. “One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich” is the story that will serve as the topic of this article.

Facts from the author's biography: youth

Before describing the summary of the story “One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich,” I would like to dwell on some information from the writer’s personal life in order to understand why such a work appeared among his creations. Alexander Isaevich was born in Kislovodsk in December 1918 in an ordinary peasant family. His father was educated at the university, but his life was tragic: he took part in the bloody First World War, and upon returning from the front, by an absurd accident, he died without even seeing the birth of his son. After this, the mother, who came from a “kulak” family, and little Alexander I had to huddle in corners and removable shacks for more than 15 years. From 1926 to 1936, Solzhenitsyn studied at school, where he was bullied due to disagreement with certain provisions of communist ideology. At the same time, he first became seriously interested in literature.

Constant persecution

Studying at the correspondence department of the literary faculty at the Institute of Philosophy was interrupted by the beginning of the Great Patriotic War. Despite the fact that Solzhenitsyn went through it all and even rose to the rank of captain, in February 1945 he was arrested and sentenced to 8 years in camps and lifelong exile. The reason for this was the negative assessments of the Stalin regime, the totalitarian system and Soviet literature saturated with falsehood. Only in 1956 the writer was released from exile by a decision of the Supreme Court. In 1959, Solzhenitsyn created famous story about a single, but not at all the last day of Ivan Denisovich, a brief summary of which will be discussed further. It was printed in periodical"New World" (issue 11). To do this, the editor, A. T. Tvardovsky, had to enlist the support of N. S. Khrushchev, the head of state. However, since 1966, the author was subjected to a second wave of repression. He was deprived Soviet citizenship and sent to West Germany. Solzhenitsyn returned to his homeland only in 1994, and only from that time his creations began to be appreciated. The writer died in August 2008 at the age of 90.

“One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich”: the beginning

The story “One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich,” a summary of which could not be presented without analysis turning points the life of its creator, tells the reader about the camp existence of a peasant, a worker, a front-line soldier, who, due to the policies pursued by Stalin, ended up in a camp, in exile. By the time the reader meets Ivan Denisovich, he is already an elderly man who has lived in similar inhumane conditions about 8 years old. Lived and survived. He got this share because during the war he was captured by the Germans, from which he escaped, and was later accused by the Soviet government of espionage. The investigator who examined his case, of course, was unable not only to establish, but even to come up with what the espionage could consist of, and therefore simply wrote a “task” and sent him to hard labor. The story clearly resonates with other works of the author on similar topics - these are “In the First Circle” and “The Gulag Archipelago”.

Summary: “One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich” as a story about a common man

The work opens with the date 1941, June 23 - exactly at this time main character left his native village of Temgenevo, left his wife and two daughters in order to devote himself to defending his homeland. A year later, in February, Ivan Denisovich and his comrades were captured, and after a successful escape to their homeland, as mentioned above, they found themselves classified as spies and exiled to a Soviet concentration camp. For refusing to sign the protocol drawn up, they could have been shot, but this way the man had the opportunity to live at least a little longer in this world.

Ivan Denisovich Shukhov spent 8 years in Ust-Izhma, and spent the 9th year in Siberia. There is cold and monstrous conditions all around. Instead of decent food - a disgusting stew with fish remains and frozen cabbage. That is why Ivan Denisovich and those around him minor characters(for example, the intellectual Caesar Markovich, who did not have time to become a director, or the naval officer of the 2nd rank Buinovsky, nicknamed Kavtorang) are busy thinking about where to get food for themselves in order to last at least one more day. The hero no longer has half of his teeth, his head is shaved - a real convict.

A certain hierarchy and system of relationships have been built in the camp: some are respected, others are disliked. The latter includes Fetyukov, a former office boss who avoids work and survives by begging. Shukhov, like Fetyukov, does not receive parcels from home, unlike Caesar himself, because the village is starving. But Ivan Denisovich does not lose his dignity; on the contrary, on this day he tries to lose himself in construction work, only devoting himself more diligently to the work, without overexerting himself and at the same time not shirking his duties. He manages to buy tobacco, successfully hide a piece of a hacksaw, get an extra portion of porridge, not end up in a punishment cell and not be sent to Social Town to work in the bitter cold - these are the results the hero sums up at the end of the day. This one day in the life of Ivan Denisovich (the summary will be supplemented by an analysis of the details) can be called truly happy - this is what the main character himself thinks. Only he already has 3,564 such “happy” camp days. The story ends on this sad note.

The nature of the main character

Shukhov Ivan Denisovich is, in addition to all of the above, a man of word and deed. It is through labor that a person comes from common people does not lose face under the current conditions. Village wisdom dictates to Ivan Denisovich how to behave: even in such debilitating circumstances one must remain an honest man. For Ivan Denisovich, humiliating himself in front of others, licking plates and making denunciations against fellow sufferers seems low and shameful. The key settings for it are simple folk proverbs and sayings: “He who knows two things with his hands can also do ten.” Mixed in with them are the principles acquired already in the camp, as well as Christian and universal postulates, which Shukhov truly begins to understand only here. Why did Solzhenitsyn create exactly such a person as the main character of his story? “One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich,” a brief summary of which was discussed in this material, is a story that affirms the opinion of the author himself that driving force development of the state, one way or another, there was, is and always will be ordinary people. Ivan Denisovich is one of its representatives.

Time

What else allows the reader to establish both the full and brief content? “One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich” is a story, the analysis of which cannot be considered complete without analyzing the time component of the work. The time of the story is motionless. Days follow each other, but this does not bring the end of the term any closer. The monotony and mechanicalness of life were yesterday; they will be there tomorrow too. That is why one day accumulates the entire camp reality - Solzhenitsyn did not even have to create a voluminous, weighty book to describe it. However, in the vicinity of this time, something else coexists - metaphysical, universal. What matters here is not the crumbs of bread, but the spiritual, moral and ethical values that remain unchanged from century to century. Values that help a person survive even in such harsh conditions.

Space

In the space of the story, a contradiction with the spaces described by the writers of the golden age is clearly visible. Heroes XIX century they loved freedom, vastness, steppes, forests; heroes of the 20th century prefer cramped, stuffy cells and barracks to them. They want to hide from the eyes of the guards, get away, run away from wide open spaces and open areas. However, this is not all that allows us to determine both the full and brief content. “One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich” is a story in which the boundaries of imprisonment remain extremely blurred, and this is a different level of space. It seems that the camp reality has swallowed up the entire country. Taking into account the fate of the author himself, we can conclude that this was not too far from the truth.

One day of Ivan Denisovich

And for some reason they didn’t go to unlock the barracks, and you never heard of the orderlies picking up the barrel on sticks to carry it out.

- Here, guys, the law is the taiga. But people live here too. Here's who's dying in the camp: who's licking bowls, who's relying on the medical unit, and who's godfather goes to knock.

As for the godfather, of course, he turned down that. They save themselves. Only their care is on someone else’s blood.

But the morning came as usual.

And where can you get warm here - there is ice on the window, and on the walls along the junction with the ceiling throughout the entire barracks - a healthy barracks! - white cobweb. Frost.

Shukhov did not get up. He was lying on top linings, covering his head with a blanket and pea coat, and in a padded jacket, in one sleeve turned up, putting both feet together. He didn’t see, but from the sounds he understood everything that was happening in the barracks and in their brigade corner. So, heavily walking along the corridor, the orderlies carried one of the eight-bucket buckets. Considered disabled, easy work, but come on, take it out without spilling it! Here in the 75th brigade they slammed a bunch of felt boots from the dryer onto the floor. And here it is in ours (and today it was our turn to dry felt boots). The foreman and sergeant-at-arms put on their shoes in silence, and their lining creaks. The brigadier will now go to the bread-slicer, and the foreman will go to the headquarters barracks, to the contractors.

There, sure enough, there won’t be anywhere to warm up for a month – not a kennel. And if you can’t light a fire, what to heat it with? Work hard conscientiously - your only salvation.

The test is not a loss, shouldn't we try it in the medical unit? touch, free from work for a day? Well, the whole body is literally torn apart.

And also, which guard is on duty today?

The carriage shook and swayed. Two stood up at once: at the top was Shukhov’s neighbor, Baptist Alyoshka, and at the bottom was Buinovsky, a former captain of the second rank, cavalry officer.

The old orderlies, having carried out both buckets, began to argue about who should go get boiling water. They scolded affectionately, like women. An electric welder from the 20th brigade barked:

- Hey, wicks!- and threw a felt boot at them. - I’ll make peace!

The felt boot thudded against the post. They fell silent.

In the neighboring brigade the brigadier muttered slightly:

- Vasil Fedorych! The food table was distorted, you bastards: it was nine hundred and four, but it became only three. Who should I miss?

He said this quietly, but of course the whole brigade heard and hid: a piece would be cut off from someone in the evening.

And Shukhov lay and lay on the compressed sawdust of his mattress. At least one side would take it - either the chill would strike, or the aching would go away. And neither this nor that.

While the Baptist was whispering prayers, Buinovsky returned from the breeze and announced to no one, but as if maliciously:

- Well, hold on, Red Navy men! Thirty degrees true!

And Shukhov decided to go to the medical unit.

This means that he was not on duty in line and sneaked in quietly.

- Another eight hundred fifty-four! - Tatar read from the white patch on the back of his black pea coat. – Three days kondeya with output!

- For what, citizen chief? – Shukhov asked, giving his voice more pity than he felt.

Once you're sent back to work, it's still half a cell, and they'll give you hot food, and there's no time to think about it. A complete punishment cell is when without withdrawal.

– Didn’t get up on the way up? “Let’s go to the commandant’s office,” Tatar explained lazily, because he, Shukhov, and everyone understood what the condo was for.