Maxim Gorky - old year. Lesson "Old Year" M. Gorky

Maksim Gorky

Old year

On the last day of his life, the Old Year - before returning to Eternity - arranges something like a solemn meeting for his successor - he gathers all human Properties in front of him and talks with them until twelve o'clock - until the fateful moment of his death, until the birth of the New Year.

It was the same yesterday - in the evening, strange and vague creatures began to gather to visit the Old Year - creatures whose names and forms are known to us, but whose essences and meanings for us we cannot yet clearly imagine.

Hypocrisy came first, hand in hand with Humility, behind it came Ambition, respectfully accompanied by Stupidity, and after this pair slowly walked a majestic, but emaciated and obviously sick figure - it was Intelligence, and although in his deep and penetrating eyes there was a lot They sparkled with pride in themselves, but even more there was melancholy about their powerlessness.

Behind him walked Lyubov - a half-naked and very rude woman, with eyes in which there was a lot of sensuality and not a spark of thought.

Luxury, following her, said in a warning whisper:

- O love! How are you dressed? Fi, does such a suit suit your role in life?

- Bah! - Suspiciousness responded, - what do you want from Love, madam? You have always been and still remain a romantic, I’ll tell you what. For me, the simpler, the clearer, the better, and I am very pleased that I managed to tear away from Love the veils of fantasy in which the dreamers dressed her. We live on earth, it is hard, and its color is dirty, and the heavens are so high that there will never be anything in common between them and the earth! Is not it?

And Love itself was silent - her tongue has long been almost mute, she does not have the former ardent words, her desires are rude, and her blood is liquid and cold.

Vera also appeared - a broken and wavering creature. She cast a glance of irreconcilable hatred towards Um and quietly disappeared from his eyes in the crowd that had come to celebrate the Old Year.

Then behind her, Hope flashed like a spark, flashed and disappeared somewhere.

Then Wisdom appeared. She was dressed in bright and light fabrics, decorated with a mass of fake stones, and no matter how bright and shiny her costume was, she herself was so dark and sad.

And then Despondency came, and everyone bowed to it respectfully, because it is in the honor of Time.

The last to come was Truth, timid and downtrodden, as always, sick and sad; she, quietly and unnoticed by anyone, walked into the corner and sat there alone.

Old Year came out, looked at his guests and grinned with Mephisto's grin.

- Hello and goodbye! - he spoke. - Farewell because I am dying, as prescribed by Fate. I am mortal, and I am glad that I am mortal, for if the time of my life had continued even for one day, I would not have endured the melancholy of my pale life. It’s so boring to live always dealing only with you! I sincerely feel sorry for you - you are immortal. And for this I also regret that on my birthday you were all stronger, fresher and more whole than today, on the day of my death. Yes, I sincerely pity you - you are all terribly worn out by people, discolored by them, crushed, and you are all so close to each other in your common ugliness. And is it you – human properties? You are without strength, without color, without fire! I feel sorry for you and the people.

And the Old Year grinned and then again, looking around the guests, asked Vera:

- Faith! Where is your power, which moved people to great deeds and inspired life?

- He robbed me! – Vera said dully, pointing in the direction of Uma.

“I owe it to her that to this day people are still confident in my power.” In the fight against her, I wasted my best strength! - Um responded angrily.

- Don't quarrel, unfortunates! – the dying Old Man smiled dispassionately again and, after a pause, said again: “Yes, you are all terribly pale and worn out.” How sickening it must be to be human and have to deal with you day after day for years? Who is that shaking his head affirmatively? Oh, it's you, True! You are still the same... not in honor among people... Well, what?.. Farewell, my former companions. Goodbye, I have nothing more to say to you... But... I don’t see anyone among you? Yes? Where is the Originality?

“She’s been gone for a long time,” Pravda answered timidly.

- Poor earth! - Old Year regretted. - How bored she is! People are pathetic and colorless if they have lost the originality of their thoughts, feelings, and actions.

“They don’t even know how to create a costume for themselves that would at least somewhat brighten up the ugliness of their forms, devoid of ancient beauty,” Pravda quietly complained.

- What's wrong with them? – Old Year asked thoughtfully.

“They lost their desires and were left to live only with lusts...” Pravda explained.

- Do they die too? - Old Year was amazed.

“No,” said Pravda. - They are still living. But how do they live? Most out of habit, some out of curiosity, and all without realizing why they live.

Old Year laughed coldly.

- It's time! Another minute and my hour will strike - the hour of my liberation from life. As I leave, I'll say a little... I existed and found it very sad. Farewell once again and for the last time. I feel sorry for you, I regret that you are immortal and that peace is not available to you. Son of Time - I am impassive, but still I feel sorry for you and people. First hit! Two…

Having struck twice, the clock stopped chiming.

Everyone looked at them in amazement, and they saw something strange.

Someone, with wings on his head and legs, stood at the clock, beautiful, like one of the gods of Hellas, and, holding the minute hand of the clock with his hand, looked into the eyes of the Old Year, fading in anticipation of death.

“I am Mercury and was sent here from Eternity,” he said. “She said, why do old people need the New Year?” Tell them that there will be no New Year until new people are born. The one who was already there will remain with them - let him change from the shroud into the dress of a young man and live.

- But this is torture! - said the Old Man.

- You will stay! – Mercury repeated adamantly. - And until people renew their thoughts and feelings, you will remain with them, Old Man! That's what Eternity said - live!

And he disappeared - the messenger of Eternity... And when he disappeared, the clock threw ten dull blows into the silence of amazement.

And the Old Year, dying in triumph, remained to live again with Dejection smiling mournfully into his wrinkled face.

The guests of the Old Year were leaving quietly and sadly.

And Nadezhda, leaving, was silent, and Hypocrisy, expressing sorrow on her face, flirted with Supremacy, talking to him something about Mind, something about Patience, and, speaking, she was still afraid that Dejection would overhear his speeches and did not reproach him for his speeches.

And finally everyone left.

Only the Old Year remained, already dressed in the dress of the New Year, yes True

To the question of M. bitter old year, a brief summary asked by the author Olka Chudo the best answer is On the last day of his life, the Old Year - before returning to Eternity - arranges something like a solemn meeting for his successor - he collects all human Properties in front of him and talks with them until twelve o'clock - until the fateful moment of his death, until the birth of the New Year.
It was the same yesterday - in the evening strange and vague creatures began to gather to visit the Old Year - creatures whose names and forms are known to us, but whose essences and meanings for us we cannot yet clearly imagine.
Hypocrisy came first, hand in hand with Humility, behind it came Ambition, respectfully accompanied by Stupidity, and after this pair slowly walked a majestic, but emaciated and obviously sick figure - it was Intelligence, and although in his deep and penetrating eyes there was much They sparkled with pride in themselves, but even more there was melancholy about their powerlessness.
Behind him walked Lyubov - a half-naked and very rude woman, with eyes in which there was a lot of sensuality and not a spark of thought.
Luxury, following her, said in a warning whisper:
- O love! How are you dressed? Fi, does such a suit suit your role in life?
- Bah! - Suspiciousness responded, - what do you want from Love, madam? You have always been and still remain a romantic, I’ll tell you what. For me, the simpler, the clearer, the better, and I am very pleased that I managed to tear away from Love the veils of fantasy in which the dreamers dressed it. We live on earth, it is hard, and its color is dirty, and the heavens are so high that there will never be anything in common between them and the earth! Is not it?
And Love itself was silent - her tongue has long been almost mute, she does not have the former ardent words, her desires are rude, and her blood is liquid and cold.
Vera also appeared - a broken and wavering creature. She cast a glance of irreconcilable hatred towards Um and quietly disappeared from his eyes in the crowd that had come to celebrate the Old Year.
Then behind her, Hope flashed like a spark, flashed and disappeared somewhere.
Then Wisdom appeared. She was dressed in bright and light fabrics, decorated with a mass of fake stones, and no matter how bright and shiny her costume was, she herself was so dark and sad.
And then Despondency came, and everyone bowed to it respectfully, because it is in the honor of Time.
The last to come was Truth, timid and downtrodden, as always, sick and sad; she, quietly and unnoticed by anyone, walked into the corner and sat there alone.
Old Year came out, looked at his guests and grinned with Mephisto's grin.
- Hello and goodbye! - he spoke. - Farewell because I am dying, as prescribed by Fate. I am mortal, and I am glad that I am mortal, for if the time of my life had continued even for one day, I would not have endured the melancholy of my pale life. It’s so boring to live always dealing only with you! I sincerely feel sorry for you - you are immortal. And for this I also regret that on my birthday you were all stronger, fresher and more whole than today, on the day of my death. Yes, I sincerely pity you - you are all terribly worn out by people, discolored by them, crushed, and you are all so close to each other in your common ugliness. And it is you who are human Properties? You are without strength, without color, without fire! I feel sorry for you and the people.
And the Old Year grinned and then again, looking around the guests, asked Vera:
- Faith! Where is your power, which moved people to great deeds and inspired life?
- He robbed me! - Vera said dully, pointing in the direction of Uma.
“I owe it to her that to this day people are still confident in my power.” In the fight against her, I wasted my best strength! - Um responded angrily.
- Don't quarrel, unfortunate people! - the dying Old Man smiled dispassionately again and, after a pause, said again: - Yes, you are all terribly pale and worn out. How sickening it must be to be human and have to deal with you day after day for years? Who is that shaking his head affirmatively? Oh, it's you, True! You are still the same... not in honor among people... Well, what?.. Farewell, my former companions. Goodbye, I have nothing more to say to you... But... I don’t see anyone among you? Yes? Where is the Originality?
- She's been gone for a long time

A.M.Gorky

Old year. Fairy tale

On the last day of his life, the Old Year - before returning to Eternity - arranges something like a solemn meeting for his successor - he collects all human Properties in front of him and talks with them until twelve o'clock - until the fateful moment of his death, until the birth of the New Year.

It was the same yesterday - in the evening strange and vague creatures began to gather to visit the Old Year - creatures whose names and forms are known to us, but whose essences and meanings for us we cannot yet clearly imagine.

Hypocrisy came first, hand in hand with Humility, behind it came Ambition, respectfully accompanied by Stupidity, and after this pair slowly walked a majestic, but emaciated and obviously sick figure - it was Intelligence, and although in his deep and penetrating eyes there was much They sparkled with pride in themselves, but even more there was melancholy about their powerlessness.

Behind him walked Lyubov - a half-naked and very rude woman, with eyes in which there was a lot of sensuality and not a spark of thought.

Luxury, following her, said in a warning whisper:

O love! How are you dressed? Fi, does such a suit suit your role in life?

Bah! - Suspiciousness responded, - what do you want from Love, madam? You have always been and still remain a romantic, I’ll tell you what. For me, the simpler, the clearer, the better, and I am very pleased that I managed to tear away from Love the veils of fantasy in which the dreamers dressed her. We live on earth, it is hard, and its color is dirty, and the heavens are so high that there will never be anything in common between them and the earth! Is not it?

And Love itself was silent - her tongue has long been almost mute, she does not have the former ardent words, her desires are rude, and her blood is liquid and cold.

Vera also appeared - a broken and wavering creature. She cast a glance of irreconcilable hatred towards Um and quietly disappeared from his eyes in the crowd that had come to celebrate the Old Year.

Then behind her, Hope flashed like a spark, flashed and disappeared somewhere.

Then Wisdom appeared. She was dressed in bright and light fabrics, decorated with a mass of fake stones, and no matter how bright and shiny her costume was, she herself was so dark and sad.

And then Despondency came, and everyone bowed to it respectfully, because it is in the honor of Time.

The last to come was Truth, timid and downtrodden, as always, sick and sad; she, quietly and unnoticed by anyone, walked into the corner and sat there alone.

Old Year came out, looked at his guests and grinned with Mephisto's grin.

Hello and goodbye! - he spoke. - Farewell because I am dying, as prescribed by Fate. I am mortal, and I am glad that I am mortal, for if the time of my life had continued even for one day, I would not have endured the melancholy of my pale life. It’s so boring to live always dealing only with you! I sincerely feel sorry for you - you are immortal. And for this I also regret that on my birthday you were all stronger, fresher and more whole than today, on the day of my death. Yes, I sincerely pity you - you are all terribly worn out by people, discolored by them, crushed, and you are all so close to each other in your common ugliness. And it is you who are human Properties? You are without strength, without color, without fire! I feel sorry for you and the people.

And the Old Year grinned and then again, looking around the guests, asked Vera:

Faith! Where is your power, which moved people to great deeds and inspired life?

It was he who robbed me! - Vera said dully, pointing in the direction of Uma.

I owe it to her that to this day people are still confident in my power. In the fight against her, I wasted my best strength! - Um responded angrily.

Don't quarrel, you unfortunates! - the dying Old Man smiled dispassionately again and, after a pause, said again: - Yes, you are all terribly pale and worn out. How sickening it must be to be human and have to deal with you day after day for years? Who is that shaking his head affirmatively? Oh, it's you, True! You are still the same... not in honor among people... Well, what?.. Farewell, my former companions. Goodbye, I have nothing more to say to you... But... I don’t see anyone among you? Yes? Where is the Originality?

“She’s been gone for a long time,” Pravda answered timidly.

Poor earth! - Old Year regretted. - How bored she is! People are pathetic and colorless if they have lost the originality of their thoughts, feelings, and actions.

“They don’t even know how to create a costume for themselves that would at least somewhat brighten up the ugliness of their forms, devoid of ancient beauty,” Pravda quietly complained.

What's wrong with them? - Old Year asked thoughtfully.

They lost their desires and were left to live only with lusts... Truth explained.

Do they die too? - Old Year was amazed.

No, said Pravda. - They are still living. But how do they live? Most out of habit, some out of curiosity, and all without realizing why they live.

Old Year laughed coldly.

It's time! Another minute and my hour will strike - the hour of my liberation from life. As I leave, I'll say a little... I existed and found it very sad. Farewell once again and for the last time. I feel sorry for you, I regret that you are immortal and that peace is not available to you. Son of Time - I am impassive, but still I feel sorry for you and people. First hit! Two...

Having struck twice, the clock stopped beating.

Everyone looked at them in amazement, and they saw something strange.

Someone, with wings on his head and legs, stood at the clock, beautiful, like one of the gods of Hellas, and, holding the minute hand of the clock with his hand, looked into the eyes of the Old Year, fading in anticipation of death.

“I am Mercury and was sent here from Eternity,” he said. - She said why do old people need New Year? Tell them that there will be no New Year until new people are born. The one who was already there will remain with them - let him change from the shroud into the dress of a young man and live.

But this is torture! - said the Old Man.

You will stay! - Mercury repeated adamantly. - And until people renew their thoughts and feelings, you will remain with them, Old Man! That's what Eternity said - live!

And he disappeared - the messenger of Eternity... And when he disappeared, the clock threw ten dull strikes into the silence of amazement.

And the Old Year, dying in triumph, remained to live again with Dejection smiling mournfully into his wrinkled face.

The guests of the Old Year were leaving quietly and sadly.

Old year

On the last day of his life, the Old Year - before returning to Eternity - arranges something like a solemn meeting for his successor - he gathers all human Properties before his face and talks with them until twelve o'clock - until the fatal moment of his death, until the moment New Year's birth. It was the same yesterday - in the evening strange and vague creatures began to gather to visit the Old Year - creatures whose names and forms are known to us, but whose essences and meanings for us we cannot yet clearly imagine. Hypocrisy came first, hand in hand with Humility, behind it came Ambition, respectfully accompanied by Stupidity, and after this pair slowly walked a majestic, but emaciated and obviously sick figure - it was Intelligence, and although in his deep and penetrating eyes There was a lot of sparkling pride in themselves, but even more there was melancholy about their powerlessness. Behind him walked Lyubov - a half-naked and very rude woman, with eyes in which there was a lot of sensuality and not a spark of thought. Luxury, following her, said in a warning whisper: “Oh Love!” How are you dressed? Fi, does such a suit suit your role in life? - Bah! - Suspicion responded, - what do you want from Love, madam? You have always been and still remain a romantic, I’ll tell you what. For me, the simpler, the clearer, the better, and I am very pleased that I managed to tear away from Love the veils of fantasy in which the dreamers dressed it. We live on earth, it is hard, and its color is dirty, and the heavens are so high that there will never be anything in common between them and the earth! Is not it? And Love itself was silent - her tongue has long been almost mute, she does not have the former ardent words, her desires are rude, and her blood is liquid and cold. Vera also appeared - a broken and wavering creature. She cast a glance of irreconcilable hatred towards Um and quietly disappeared from his eyes in the crowd that had come to celebrate the Old Year. Then behind her, Hope flashed like a spark, flashed and disappeared somewhere. Then Wisdom appeared. She was dressed in bright and light fabrics, decorated with a mass of fake stones, and no matter how bright and shiny her costume was, she herself was so dark and sad. And then Despondency came, and everyone bowed to it respectfully, because it is in the honor of Time. The last to come was Truth, timid and downtrodden, as always, sick and sad; she, quietly and unnoticed by anyone, walked into the corner and sat there alone. Old Year came out, looked at his guests and grinned with Mephisto's grin. - Hello and goodbye! - he spoke. - Farewell because I am dying, as prescribed by Fate. I am mortal, and I am glad that I am mortal, for if the time of my life had continued even for one day, I would not have endured the melancholy of my pale life. It’s so boring to live always dealing only with you! I sincerely feel sorry for you - you are immortal. And for this I also regret that on my birthday you were all stronger, fresher and more whole than today, on the day of my death. Yes, I sincerely pity you - you are all terribly worn out by people, discolored by them, crushed, and you are all so close to each other in your common ugliness. And is it you—human properties? You are without strength, without color, without fire! I feel sorry for you and the people. And the Old Year grinned and then again, looking around the guests, asked Vera: “Vera!” Where is your power, which moved people to great deeds and inspired life? - He robbed me! - Vera said dully, pointing in the direction of Uma. “I owe it to her that to this day people are still confident in my power.” In the fight against her, I wasted my best strength! - Um responded angrily. - Don't quarrel, unfortunates! - the dying Old Man smiled dispassionately again and, after a pause, said again: - Yes, you are all terribly pale and worn out. How sickening it must be to be human and have to deal with you day after day for years? Who is that shaking his head affirmatively? Oh, it's you, True! You are still the same... not in honor among people... Well, what?.. Farewell, my former companions. Goodbye, I have nothing more to say to you... But... I don’t see anyone among you? Yes? Where is the Originality? “She’s been gone for a long time,” Pravda answered timidly. - Poor earth! - Old Year regretted. - How bored she is! People are pathetic and colorless if they have lost the originality of their thoughts, feelings, and actions. “They don’t even know how to create a costume for themselves that would at least somewhat brighten up the ugliness of their forms, devoid of ancient beauty,” Pravda quietly complained. - What's wrong with them? - Old Year asked thoughtfully. “They lost their desires and were left to live only with lusts...” explained Pravda. - Do they die too? - Old Year was amazed. “No,” said Truth. - They are still living. But how do they live? Most out of habit, some out of curiosity, and all without realizing why they live. Old Year laughed coldly. - It's time! Another minute and my hour will strike - the hour of my liberation from life. As I leave, I'll say a little... I existed and found it very sad. Farewell once again and for the last time. I feel sorry for you, I regret that you are immortal and that peace is not available to you. Son of Time - I am impassive, but still I feel sorry for you and people. First hit! Two... What is this? Having struck twice, the clock stopped striking. Everyone looked at them in amazement, and they saw something strange. Someone, with wings on his head and legs, stood at the clock, beautiful, like one of the gods of Hellas, and, holding the minute hand of the clock with his hand, looked into the eyes of the Old Year, fading in anticipation of death. “I am Mercury and was sent here from Eternity,” he said. - She said - why do old people need New Year? Tell them that there will be no New Year until new people are born. The one who was already there will remain with them - let him change from the shroud into the dress of a young man and live. - But this is torture! - said the Old Man. - You will stay! - Mercury repeated adamantly. “And until people renew their thoughts and feelings, you will remain with them, Old Man!” So said Eternity - live! And he disappeared - the messenger of Eternity... And when he disappeared, the clock threw ten dull strikes into the silence of amazement. And the Old Year, dying in triumph, remained to live again with Dejection smiling mournfully into his wrinkled face. The guests of the Old Year were leaving quietly and sadly. And Nadezhda, leaving, was silent, and Hypocrisy, expressing sorrow on her face, flirted with Wisdom, talking to him something about Mind, something about Patience, and, speaking, she was still afraid that Dejection would overhear the speeches and did not reproach him for his speeches. And finally everyone left. Only the Old Year remained, already dressed in the dress of the New Year, and the Truth is always and everywhere the last!