In the barren dryness of speech.
E.I.Bogomolova, T.K.Zharov, M.M.Kedrova “A manual on literature for students of preparatory departments of higher educational institutions– M., graduate School, 1986.
On some features of the system of images, plot and composition of the novel “Eugene Onegin”
In the seventh chapter Olga marries a lancer and goes with him to the regiment; Tatiana visits Onegin's house; Tatyana's mother decides to take her to Moscow; Tatyana says goodbye to her native place; The Larins are going to Moscow; Tatiana in Moscow, characteristics of Moscow society. The most important thing in the seventh chapter is the development of Tatyana's feelings of love for Onegin. Even before the duel between Onegin and Lensky, the author does not forget to remind about this:
If only Tatyana knew, If only she could know, That tomorrow Lensky and Evgeniy would argue about the grave canopy; Ah, maybe her love would unite her friends again! But no one has yet discovered this passion even by accident.
The yearning Tatyana unexpectedly enters the empty “master’s” house, where Onegin’s recent presence is still so vividly felt, where every little thing reminds of him - a forgotten cue on the billiard table, and a riding crop on a crumpled sofa, “and a table with a dim lamp, and a pile of books.” ", and "a bed covered with a carpet", and "a portrait of Lord Byron", and a cast-iron figurine of Napoleon. As a result of Tatyana's acquaintance with Onegin's library, with the notes he made on his favorite books, his inner world. “This is how Pushkin manages to solve a seemingly insoluble problem: Onegin is not in the chapter, and at the same time he is not subjective, in the thoughts and experiences of Tatyana, who is in love with him, but objectively, so to speak, materially, in his very air.” fashionable cell”, in the setting, in the books, is present here.”
Tatyana “asks permission to visit the deserted castle so that she can read books here alone”:
Although we know that Evgeniy has long ceased to love reading, However, He excluded several creations from disgrace: The Singer Gyaur and Juan Yes, with him two or three more novels, In which the century is reflected modern man Depicted quite correctly With his immoral soul, Selfish and dry, Dreams devoted immensely, With his embittered mind, Seething in empty action. Kept many pages of sharp nail marks; The eyes of the attentive girl are fixed on them more vividly. Tatyana sees with trembling, What thought, remark Onegin was amazed (...) And little by little My Tatyana begins to understand Now more clearly - thank God - The one for whom she sighs Condemned by the imperious fate: A sad and dangerous eccentric, The creation of hell or heaven, This angel, this arrogant demon, what is he? Is it really imitation, an insignificant ghost, or a Muscovite in Harold’s cloak, an interpretation of other people’s whims, fashionable words? complete lexicon?.. Isn’t he a parody? Have you really solved the riddle? Has the word been found?
“So, in Tatyana, an act of consciousness finally took place; her mind woke up. She finally understood that there are interests for a person, there is suffering and sorrow, besides the interest of suffering and the sorrow of love. But did she understand exactly what these other interests and sufferings were, and, if she did, did this serve to alleviate her own suffering? Of course, I understood, but only with my mind and head, because there are ideas that must be experienced both in soul and body in order to fully understand them, and which cannot be studied in a book. And therefore, the book’s acquaintance with this new world of sorrows, even if it was a revelation for Tatyana, this revelation made a heavy, joyless and fruitless impression on her; it frightened her, terrified her and forced her to look at passions as the death of life, convinced her of the need to submit to reality as it is, and if she lives the life of her heart, then to herself, in the depths of her soul, in the silence of solitude, in the darkness of the night, dedicated to longing and sobs. Visits to Onegin’s house and reading his books prepared Tatyana for the rebirth from a village girl into a society lady, which so surprised and amazed Onegin” (V. Belinsky).
With a feeling of fear, Tatyana perceives her mother’s decision to “go to Moscow in winter”:
For the judgment of the discerning world, present the clear features of provincial simplicity, and belated outfits, and the belated style of speeches.
And then the Narrator will reveal to us the Russian soul of “Dear Tatiana”:
Rising with the first rays, Now she hurries into the fields And, looking at them with tender eyes, says: “Forgive me, peaceful valleys, And you, familiar mountain peaks, And you, familiar forests; Sorry, heavenly beauty, Sorry, cheerful nature; I'm changing, darling, quiet light To the noise of brilliant vanities... Forgive me too, my freedom!..”
During this difficult time for Tatyana, the Narrator does not leave her for a minute. He drags along with her in a cart to Moscow and complains that “now our roads are bad, forgotten bridges are rotting.” Together with her he enters Moscow:
Ah, brothers! How pleased I was when churches and bell towers, gardens, and a semicircle of palaces suddenly opened before me! How often in sorrowful separation, In my wandering fate, Moscow, I thought about you! Moscow... how much in this sound has merged for the Russian heart! How much resonated with him!
He spies on her first morning in Moscow and sadly reports that “she’s not feeling well at the housewarming party”:
Tanya sits down by the window. The dusk is thinning; but she does not distinguish Her fields: In front of her is an unfamiliar yard, a stable, a kitchen and a fence.
He will enter the Moscow world together with her, both on his own behalf and on her behalf, he will say harsh, merciless words about him:
Tatyana wants to listen closely to conversations, to general conversation; But everyone in the living room is occupied by such incoherent, vulgar nonsense; Everything about them is so pale and indifferent; They slander even boringly; IN barren dryness speeches, Questions, gossip and news No thoughts will flash for a whole day, Even by chance, even at random; The languid mind will not smile, The heart will not tremble, even for a joke. And you won’t even find funny stupidity in you, the light is empty.
The poet will once again remind the reader that even in Moscow, the thought of Onegin does not leave Tatyana:
She feels stuffy here... she dreams of striving for life in the field, to the village, to the poor villagers. To a secluded corner. Where a bright stream flows, To its flowers, to its novels And into the darkness of linden alleys. Where he appeared to her. So her thought wanders far away: Both the light and the noisy ball are forgotten, And meanwhile some important general does not take his eyes off her.
The narrator will congratulate sweet Tatyana on her victory and leave her for two whole years, and he himself will return to his hero, finally making an introduction to the novel:
By the way, here are two words about that: I sing to my young friend And many of his quirks. Bless my long labor, O thou epic muse! And, having handed me the faithful staff, do not let me wander at random and crookedly. Enough. Down with the burden! I saluted classicism: Although it’s late, there is an introduction.
What made the Narrator happy about Tatyana’s fate? The “important general” immediately saw in Tatyana what was dear to the author about her. And the poet is calm about Tatiana’s fate. He will remain silent about the mental anguish that Tatyana experienced, forced to marry not out of love. She herself will later tell Onegin about them:
And happiness was so possible, So close!.. But my fate has already been decided. Perhaps I acted carelessly: My mother begged me with tears of spells; for poor Tanya, all the lots were equal...
IDriven by spring rays,
There is already snow from the surrounding mountains
Escaped through muddy streams
To the flooded meadows.
Nature's clear smile
Through a dream he greets the morning of the year;
The skies are shining blue.
More transparent forests
It's like they're turning green.
Bee for field tribute
Flies from a wax cell.
The valleys are dry and colorful;
The herds rustle and the nightingale
Already singing in the silence of the night.
How sad your appearance is to me,
Spring, spring! it's time for love!
What languid excitement
In my soul, in my blood!
With what heavy tenderness
I enjoy the breeze
Spring blowing in my face
In the lap of rural silence!
Or is pleasure alien to me,
And everything that pleases lives,
Everything that rejoices and shines,
Causes boredom and languor
For a soul that has been dead for a long time,
And everything seems dark to her?
Or, not happy about the return
Dead leaves in autumn,
We remember the bitter loss
Listening to the new noise of the forests;
Or with nature alive
We bring together the confused thought
We are the fading of our years,
Which cannot be reborn?
Perhaps it comes to our minds
In the midst of a poetic dream
Another, old spring
And it makes our hearts tremble
Dream of the far side
About a wonderful night, about the moon...
Now is the time: good sloths,
Epicurean sages
You indifferent lucky ones,
You, Levshin's school chicks,
You village Priams,
And you, sensitive ladies,
Spring is calling you to the village,
It's time for warmth, flowers, work,
It's time for inspired celebrations
And seductive nights.
To the fields, friends! hurry, hurry,
In carriages, heavily loaded,
On long or postal
Reach out from the city outposts.
They are harnessed to the boyar's cart,
Chefs preparing breakfast
The wagons are loaded with a mountain,
The women and the coachmen are scolding.
On a skinny and shaggy nag
A bearded postilion sits,
The servants came running at the gate
Say goodbye to bars. And so
We sat down, and the venerable cart,
Sliding, crawls through the gate.
“Sorry, peaceful places!
Sorry, it's a secluded shelter!
Will I see you?..” And the stream flowed
It's pouring out of Tanya's eyes.
When good enlightenment
Let's push more boundaries,
Over time (according to calculation
Philosophical tables
Five hundred years later) the roads, right,
Ours will change immensely:
The Russian highway is here and here,
Having connected, they will cross.
Cast iron bridges over water
They step in a wide arc,
Let's move mountains, underwater
Let's break through the daring vaults,
And he will lead the baptized world
There is a tavern at each station.
Farewell, witness of fallen glory,
Petrovsky Castle. Well! don't stand,
Let's go! Already the pillars of the outpost
Turn white; here on Tverskaya
The cart rushes over potholes.
The booths and women flash past,
Boys, benches, lanterns,
Palaces, gardens, monasteries,
Bukharians, sleighs, vegetable gardens,
Merchants, shacks, men,
Boulevards, towers, Cossacks,
Pharmacies, fashion stores,
Balconies, lions on the gates
And flocks of jackdaws on crosses.
On this weary walk
An hour or two passes, and then
At Kharitonya's alley
Cart in front of the house at the gate
Has stopped. To the old aunt
The patient has been suffering from consumption for four years,
They have arrived now.
The door opens wide for them,
In glasses, in a torn caftan,
With a stocking in his hand, a gray-haired Kalmyk.
They are greeted in the living room by a scream
The princesses stretched out on the sofa.
The old women hugged each other crying,
And exclamations poured out.
Princess, mon ange! - “Pachette!” - Alina! -
“Who would have thought? - How long ago!
For how long? - Darling! Cousin!
Sit down - how tricky it is!
By God, a scene from a novel..."
- And this is my daughter, Tatyana.-
“Oh, Tanya! come to me -
It's like I'm wandering in a dream...
Cousin, remember Grandison?”
- How, Grandison?.. ah, Grandison!
Yes, I remember, I remember. Where is he?-
“In Moscow, lives with Simeon;
He visited me on Christmas Eve;
He recently married his son.
And that one... but we’ll tell you everything later,
Isn't it true? To all her relatives
We'll show Tanya tomorrow.
It’s a pity, I don’t have the strength to drive around;
I can barely drag my feet.
But you are worn out from the road;
Let's go relax together...
Oh, I have no strength... my chest is tired...
Joy is hard for me now,
Not only sadness... my soul,
I'm no good for anything...
When you get old, life is so disgusting...”
And then, completely tired,
She coughed in tears.
Sick and caresses and fun
Tatiana is touched; but she
Not good for a housewarming party
Accustomed to her upper room.
Under a silk curtain
She can't sleep in her new bed,
And the early ringing of bells,
The forerunner of morning labors,
He gets her out of bed.
Tanya sits down by the window.
The dusk is thinning; but she
Does not distinguish its fields:
In front of her is an unfamiliar courtyard,
Stable, kitchen and fence.
And here: for related dinners
They deliver Tanya every day
Present to grandparents
Her absent-minded laziness.
To relatives who arrived from afar,
Everywhere there is an affectionate meeting,
And exclamations, and bread and salt.
“How Tanya has grown! It's been a long time
I think I baptized you?
And so on Then, submitting to nature,
They make friends with her, take her to their place,
They kiss, gently shake hands,
They whip up her curls according to fashion
And they believe in a sing-song voice
Secrets of the heart, secrets of virgins,
Others' and your own victories,
Hopes, pranks, dreams.
Innocent conversations flow
With the garnish of light slander.
Then, in return for babbling,
Her heartfelt confession
They tenderly demand.
But Tanya, just like in a dream,
He hears their speeches without participation,
Doesn't understand anything
And the secret of your heart,
Treasured treasure of tears and happiness,
Keeps silent meanwhile
And it is not shared with anyone.
Tatyana wants to listen
In conversations, in general conversation;
But everyone in the living room is occupied
Such incoherent, vulgar nonsense;
Everything about them is so pale and indifferent;
They slander even boringly;
In the barren dryness of speech,
Questions, gossip and news
No thoughts will flash for a whole day,
Even by chance, even at random;
The languid mind will not smile,
The heart will not tremble, even for a joke.
And even funny nonsense From the boxes and rows of chairs.
Noise, laughter, running, bowing,
Gallop, mazurka, waltz... Meanwhile
Between two aunts, at the column,
Unnoticed by anyone
Tatyana looks and doesn’t see,
He hates the excitement of the world;
She's stuffy here... she's a dream
Strives for life in the field,
To the village, to the poor villagers,
To a secluded corner,
Where a bright stream flows,
To your flowers, to your novels
And into the darkness of the linden alleys,
Where he appeared to her.
So her thought wanders far away:
Both the light and the noisy ball are forgotten,
And meanwhile he doesn’t take his eyes off her
Some important general.
The aunties blinked at each other
And Tanya was elbowed at once,
And each one whispered to her:
- Take a quick look to the left.-
"Left? Where? what is there?"
- Well, whatever it is, look...
In that pile, see? ahead,
Where there are still two in uniform...
Now he’s moved away... now he’s become sideways...-
"Who? Is this general fat?”
But here we congratulate you on your victory
My dear Tatiana
And we’ll direct our path aside,
So as not to forget who I’m singing about...
By the way, here are two words about that;
I sing to my young friend
And many of his quirks.
Bless my long work,
O you epic muse!
And, handing me the faithful staff,
Don't let me wander at random and crookedly.
Enough. Down with the burden!
I salute classicism:
Even though it’s late, there’s an introduction.
Hello dears.
Today we are finishing part 7 of the immortal novel in verse. Let me remind you that last time we stopped right here:
So let's continue!
And here: for related dinners
They deliver Tanya every day
Present to grandparents
Her absent-minded laziness.
To relatives who arrived from afar,
Everywhere there is an affectionate meeting,
And exclamations, and bread and salt.
"How Tanya has grown! How long has it been
I think I baptized you?
And I took it in my arms!
And I was pulling my ears so hard!
And I fed him gingerbread!”
And the grandmothers repeat in unison:
"How our years fly by!"
Nothing changes:-)))
But no change is visible in them;
Everything about them is the same as the old model:
At Aunt Princess Elena's
Still the same tulle cap;
Everything is whitewashed Lukerya Lvovna,
Lyubov Petrovna lies all the same,
Ivan Petrovich is also stupid,
Semyon Petrovich is also stingy,
At Pelageya Nikolaevna's
Still the same friend Monsieur Finmouche,
And the same Spitz, and the same husband;
And he, still a good member of the club,
Still just as humble, just as deaf,
And he also eats and drinks for two.
Gee... I was especially pleased with the line on the Spitz. Considering the way in which Pushkin tells Muscovites, we can assume that the fashion for these beautiful pocket dogs has already passed. And this is logical - because Catherine the Great was a fan of little dogs. Her favorite dogs were livery dogs. Also, lap dogs and spitz dogs came into fashion. But, as far as I understand, these are not dwarf spitzes, but large ones :-)
Club - means English. The favorite brainchild and pastime of the then privileged Muscovites. Not cheap though. If you have recommendations, admission is 100 rubles, and 50 every year. Not cheap:-)
Their daughters hug Tanya.
Young Graces of Moscow
At first they look around silently
Tatiana from head to toe;
They find her something strange,
Provincial and cutesy
And something pale and thin,
But by the way, very good;
Then, submitting to nature,
They make friends with her, take her to their place,
They kiss, gently shake hands,
They whip up her curls according to fashion
And they believe in a sing-song voice
Secrets of the heart, secrets of virgins,
Others' and your own victories,
Hopes, pranks, dreams.
Innocent conversations flow
With the garnish of light slander.
Then, in return for babbling,
Her heartfelt confession
They tenderly demand.
But Tanya, just like in a dream,
He hears their speeches without participation,
Doesn't understand anything
And the secret of your heart,
Treasured treasure of tears and happiness,
Keeps silent meanwhile
And it is not shared with anyone.
Girls, such girls :-))) And for Tanya, even then provincial Moscow is the center of the Universe :-) I really liked the term “embellishment of light slander” :-)
Tatyana wants to listen
In conversations, in general conversation;
But everyone in the living room is occupied
Such incoherent, vulgar nonsense;
Everything about them is so palely indifferent;
They slander even boringly;
In the barren dryness of speech,
Questions, gossip and news
No thoughts will flash for a whole day,
Even by chance, even at random;
The languid mind will not smile,
The heart will not tremble, even for a joke.
And even nonsense is funny
You won’t find it in you, the light is empty.
Oh-pa....it seems Tanechka is not particularly intellectual. But at the same time, her mental abilities are higher than those in Moscow, and she is simply... bored :-) This is news :-)
Archive young men in a crowd
They look at Tanya primly
And about her among themselves
They speak unfavorably.
Some sad jester
Finds her perfect
And, leaning at the door,
He is preparing an elegy for her.
Having met Tanya at the boring aunt,
Vyazemsky somehow sat down with her
And he managed to occupy her soul.
And, noticing her near him,
About her, straightening my wig,
The old man inquires.
Never mind... only Vyazemsky is interesting to her. Not weakly so...yes, this is the same prince, Pyotr Andreevich Vyazemsky, about whom we already talked a little earlier. Tanya finds herself on home education and the wilderness turns out to be more interesting than most of the Moscow elite :-)
I found about the Archive Youths from the wonderful Yuri Lotman. I quote verbatim: Archival youths is an expression by S. Sobolevsky to designate a circle of Moscow Schelling writers (most of them served in the Archive of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs), who formed a society of wise men. Shortly before the release of the seventh chapter, a novel by F. Bulgarin appeared with an evil characterization of this circle of youth: “Officials who are not serving in the service or mother’s sons, that is, the back rank of the phalanx, protected by blind fortune. Of these lucky ones most of cannot read the printed Psalter Slavic letters, although all of them are included in the parables of Russian antiquaries. They are called archival youth.
Something like that:-))
But where Melpomene is stormy
A long howl is heard,
Where he waves his tinsel robe
She is in front of a cold crowd,
Where Thalia sleeps quietly
And he doesn’t listen to friendly splashes,
Where is Terpsichore the only one
The young spectator marvels
(Which was also the case in previous years,
In your time and mine)
Didn't contact her
I will not give jealous lorgnettes,
Not a pipe of fashion connoisseurs
From boxes and rows of chairs.
Melpomene is the muse of tragedy, Thalia is the muse of comedy and light poetry, Terpsichore is the muse of dance. Well, a lorgnette is a folding framed glasses with a handle.
She is also brought to Sobranie.
There is cramped space, excitement, heat,
Music roars, candles sparkle,
Flashing, a whirlwind of fast steams,
Beauties have light dresses,
Choirs full of people,
A vast semicircle of brides,
All the senses are suddenly struck.
Here the dandies seem to be noteworthy
Your impudence, your vest
And an inattentive lorgnette.
Here the hussars are on vacation
They are in a hurry to appear, to thunder,
Shine, captivate and fly away.
The center of Moscow life :-)) The Assembly is a Noble Assembly, located on Bolshaya Dmitrovka (in Soviet times- House of Unions)
The night has many lovely stars,
There are many beauties in Moscow.
But brighter than all the heavenly friends
The moon in the airy blue.
But the one I don't dare
Disturb with my lyre,
Like the majestic moon
Among the wives and maidens, one shines.
With what heavenly pride
She touches the earth!
How full her chest is!
How languid is her wonderful gaze!..
But full, full; stop doing that:
You paid tribute to madness.
Noise, laughter, running, bowing,
Gallop, mazurka, waltz... Meanwhile,
Between two aunts, at the column,
Unnoticed by anyone
Tatyana looks and doesn’t see,
He hates the excitement of the world;
She's stuffy here... she's a dream
Strives for life in the field,
To the village, to the poor villagers,
To a secluded corner,
Where a bright stream flows,
To your flowers, to your novels
And into the darkness of the linden alleys,
Where he appeared to her.
So her thought wanders far away:
Both the light and the noisy ball are forgotten,
And meanwhile he doesn’t take his eyes off her
Some important general.
The aunties blinked at each other
And Tanya was elbowed at once,
And each one whispered to her:
- Take a quick look to your left. -
"To the left? where? what is it?"
- Well, whatever it is, look...
In that pile, see? ahead,
Where there are still two in uniform...
Now he moved away... now he turned sideways...
"Who? Is this fat general?"
So Tanya's fate was decided....
But here we congratulate you on your victory
My dear Tatiana,
And we’ll direct our path aside,
So as not to forget who I’m singing about...
Yes, by the way, here are two words about that:
I sing to my young friend
And many of his quirks.
Bless my long work,
O you epic muse!
And handing over the faithful staff to me,
Don't let me wander at random and crookedly.
Enough. Down with the burden!
I salute classicism:
Even though it’s late, there’s an introduction.
To be continued...
Have a nice time of day.
The old lady loved it very much
The advice is reasonable and good;
I got it and immediately put it down
Go to Moscow in winter.
And Tanya hears this news.
To the discerning world
Present clear features
Provincial simplicity,
And belated outfits,
And a belated warehouse of speeches;
Moscow dandies and circus
O fear! no, better and truer
She should stay in the depths of the forests.
Rising with the first rays,
Now she's in a hurry to the fields
And, with tender eyes
Looking at them, he says:
"Sorry, peaceful valleys,
And you, familiar mountain peaks,
And you, familiar forests;
Sorry, heavenly beauty,
Sorry, cheerful nature;
Changing the sweet, quiet light
To the noise of brilliant vanities...
Forgive me too, my freedom!
Where and why am I running?
What does my fate promise me?"
Her walks last a long time.
Now it’s either a hill or a stream
They stop you willy-nilly
Tatyana with her charm.
It's like with old friends,
With its groves and meadows
Still in a hurry to talk.
But summer flies quickly.
Golden autumn has arrived.
Nature is tremulous, pale,
Like a sacrifice, luxuriously decorated...
Here is the north, the clouds are catching up,
He breathed, howled - and here she is
The sorceress winter is coming.
She came and fell apart; shreds
Hanged on the branches of oak trees;
Lay down in wavy carpets
Among the fields, around the hills;
Brega with a still river
She leveled it with a plump veil;
Frost flashed. And we are glad
To the pranks of Mother Winter.
Only Tanya's heart is not happy with her.
She will not be there to greet the winter,
Breathe frosty dust
And the first snow from the roof of the bathhouse
Wash your face, shoulders and chest:
Tatyana is afraid of the winter journey.
The day of departure is long past due,
The deadline is also passing.
Inspected, reupholstered, strengthened
A cart abandoned to oblivion.
Regular convoy, three wagons
Carrying household belongings
Pots, chairs, chests,
Jam in jars, mattresses,
Featherbeds, cages with roosters,
Pots, basins et cetera,
Well, a lot of good stuff.
And here in the hut between the servants
They are harnessed to the boyar's cart,
Chefs preparing breakfast
The wagons are loaded with a mountain,
The women and the coachmen are scolding.
On a skinny and shaggy nag
A bearded postilion sits,
The servants came running at the gate
Say goodbye to bars. And so
We sat down, and the venerable cart,
Sliding, crawls through the gate.
"Sorry, peaceful places!
Sorry, it's a secluded shelter!
Will I see you?.." And the stream flowed
It's pouring out of Tanya's eyes.
When good enlightenment
Let's push more boundaries,
With time (according to calculations)
Philosophical tables
Ours will change immensely:
The Russian highway is here and here,
Having connected, they will cross.
Cast iron bridges over water
They step in a wide arc,
Let's move mountains, underwater
Let's break through the daring vaults,
And he will lead the baptized world
There is a tavern at each station.
Forgotten bridges are rotting,
There are bugs and fleas at the stations
Minutes do not allow you to fall asleep;
Pompous but hungry
For appearances the price list is hanging
And the vain teases the appetite,
Meanwhile, the rural cyclops
Before the slow fire
Russian treatment with a hammer
Light product of Europe,
Blessing the ruts
And the ditches of the father's land.
But winters are sometimes cold
The ride is pleasant and easy.
The winter road is smooth.
Automedons are our strikers,
Our threes are tireless,
And miles, delighting the idle gaze,
Unfortunately, Larina was dragging herself,
Afraid of expensive runs,
Not on postal ones, on our own,
And our maiden enjoyed
Full of road boredom:
They traveled for seven days.
But it's getting close. In front of them
Already white-stone Moscow
Like heat, golden crosses
Ancient chapters are burning.
When churches and bell towers
Gardens, palace semicircle
Suddenly opened up before me!
In my wandering destiny,
Moscow, I was thinking about you!
For the Russian heart it has merged!
How much resonated with him!
Here, surrounded by his own oak grove,
Petrovsky Castle. He's gloomy
He is proud of his recent glory.
Napoleon waited in vain
Intoxicated with the last happiness,
Moscow kneeling
With the keys of the old Kremlin:
No, my Moscow did not go
To him with a guilty head.
Not a holiday, not a receiving gift,
She was preparing a fire
To the impatient hero.
From now on, immersed in thought,
He looked at the menacing flame.
Let's go! Already the pillars of the outpost
Turning white: now along Tverskaya
The cart rushes over potholes.
The booths and women flash past,
Boys, benches, lanterns,
Palaces, gardens, monasteries,
Bukharians, sleighs, vegetable gardens,
Merchants, shacks, men,
Boulevards, towers, Cossacks,
Pharmacies, fashion stores,
Balconies, lions on the gates
And flocks of jackdaws on crosses.
On this weary walk
An hour or two passes, and then
At Kharitonya's alley
Cart in front of the house at the gate
Has stopped. To the old aunt
They have arrived now.
The door opens wide for them,
They are greeted in the living room by a scream
The princesses stretched out on the sofa.
The old women hugged each other crying,
And exclamations poured out.
Princess, mon ange! -
"Pachette!" - Alina! -
For how long? Darling! Cousin!
Sit down - how tricky it is!
By God, a scene from a novel..."
And this is my daughter, Tatyana. -
"Oh, Tanya! come to me -
It's like I'm wandering in a dream...
Cousin, remember Grandison?"
“In Moscow, lives with Simeon;
He visited me on Christmas Eve;
He recently married his son.
Isn't it true? To all her relatives
We'll show Tanya tomorrow.
I can barely drag my feet.
But you are worn out from the road;
Let's go relax together...
Joy is hard for me now,
Not only sadness... my soul,
I'm no good for anything...
And then, completely tired,
She coughed in tears.
Sick and caresses and fun
Tatiana is touched; but she
Not good for a housewarming party
Accustomed to her upper room.
Under a silk curtain
She can't sleep in her new bed,
And the early ringing of bells,
The forerunner of morning labors,
He gets her out of bed.
Tanya sits down by the window.
The dusk is thinning; but she
Does not distinguish its fields:
In front of her is an unfamiliar courtyard,
Stable, kitchen and fence.
And here: for related dinners
They deliver Tanya every day
Present to grandparents
Her absent-minded laziness.
To relatives who arrived from afar,
Everywhere there is an affectionate meeting,
And exclamations, and bread and salt.
"How Tanya has grown! How long has it been
I think I baptized you?
And I took it in my arms!
And I was pulling my ears so hard!
And I fed him gingerbread!”
And the grandmothers repeat in unison:
"How our years fly by!"
But no change is visible in them;
Everything about them is the same as the old model:
At Aunt Princess Elena's
Still the same tulle cap;
Everything is whitewashed Lukerya Lvovna,
Ivan Petrovich is just as stupid
Semyon Petrovich is also stingy,
At Pelageya Nikolaevna's
Still the same friend Monsieur Finmouche,
And the same Spitz, and the same husband;
And he also eats and drinks for two.
Their daughters hug Tanya.
Young Graces of Moscow
At first they look around silently
Tatiana from head to toe;
They find her something strange,
Provincial and cutesy
And something pale and thin,
But it’s not bad at all;
Then, submitting to nature,
They make friends with her, take her to their place,
They kiss, gently shake hands,
They whip up her curls according to fashion
And they believe in a sing-song voice
Secrets of the heart, secrets of virgins,
Others' and your own victories,
Hopes, pranks, dreams.
Innocent conversations flow
With the garnish of light slander.
Then, in return for babbling,
Her heartfelt confession
They tenderly demand.
But Tanya, just like in a dream,
He hears their speeches without participation,
Doesn't understand anything
And the secret of your heart,
Keeps silent meanwhile
And it is not shared with anyone.
Tatyana wants to listen
In conversations, in general conversation;
But everyone in the living room is occupied
They slander even boringly;
In the barren dryness of speech,
Questions, gossip and news
Even by chance, even at random;
The languid mind will not smile,
And even nonsense is funny
Archive young men in a crowd
They look at Tanya primly
And about her among themselves
They speak unfavorably.
Some sad jester
Finds her perfect
And, leaning at the door,
He is preparing an elegy for her.
Having met Tanya at the boring aunt,
Vyazemsky somehow sat down with her
And he managed to occupy her soul.
And, noticing her near him,
About her, straightening my wig,
The old man inquires.
But where Melpomene is stormy
A long howl is heard,
Where he waves his tinsel robe
She is in front of a cold crowd,
Where Thalia sleeps quietly
Where is Terpsichore the only one
The young spectator marvels
In your time and mine)
Didn't contact her
I will not give jealous lorgnettes,
Not a pipe of fashion connoisseurs
From boxes and rows of chairs.
She is also brought to Sobranie.
There is cramped space, excitement, heat,
Beauties have light dresses,
Choirs full of people,
A vast semicircle of brides,
All the senses are suddenly struck.
Here the dandies seem to be noteworthy
Your impudence, your vest
And an inattentive lorgnette.
Here the hussars are on vacation
They are in a hurry to appear, to thunder,
Shine, captivate and fly away.
There are many beauties in Moscow.
But brighter than all the heavenly friends
The moon in the airy blue.
But the one I don't dare
Disturb with my lyre,
Like the majestic moon
Among the wives and maidens, one shines.
With what heavenly pride
She touches the earth!
How full her chest is!
How languid is her wonderful gaze!..
But full, full; stop doing that:
You paid tribute to madness.
Noise, laughter, running, bowing,
Between two aunts at the column,
Unnoticed by anyone
Tatyana looks and doesn’t see,
He hates the excitement of the world;
She's stuffy here... she's a dream
Strives for life in the field,
To a secluded corner,
Where a bright stream flows,
And into the darkness of the linden alleys,
Where he appeared to her.
So her thought wanders far away:
Both the light and the noisy ball are forgotten,
Some important general.
The aunties blinked at each other
And Tanya was elbowed at once,
And each one whispered to her:
Take a quick look to your left. -
"To the left? where? what is it?"
In that pile, see? ahead,
"Who? Is this fat general?"
But here we congratulate you on your victory
My dear Tatiana
So as not to forget who I’m singing about...
I sing to my young friend
And many of his quirks.
Bless my long work,
O you epic muse!
And, handing me the faithful staff,
Enough. Down with the burden!
I salute classicism:
A.S. Pushkin, “Eugene Onegin”, chapter 7, part 2
The old lady loved it very much
The advice is reasonable and good;
I got it and immediately put it down
Go to Moscow in winter.
And Tanya hears this news.
To the discerning world
Present clear features
Provincial simplicity,
And belated outfits,
And a belated warehouse of speeches;
Moscow dandies and circus
Attract mocking glances!..
O fear! no, better and truer
She should stay in the depths of the forests.
Rising with the first rays,
Now she's in a hurry to the fields
And, with tender eyes
Looking at them, he says:
"Sorry, peaceful valleys,
And you, familiar mountain peaks,
And you, familiar forests;
Sorry, heavenly beauty,
Sorry, cheerful nature;
Changing the sweet, quiet light
To the noise of brilliant vanities...
Forgive me too, my freedom!
Where and why am I running?
What does my fate promise me?"
Her walks last a long time.
Now it’s either a hill or a stream
They stop you willy-nilly
Tatyana with her charm.
It's like with old friends,
With its groves and meadows
Still in a hurry to talk.
But summer flies quickly.
Golden autumn has arrived.
Nature is tremulous, pale,
Like a sacrifice, luxuriously decorated...
Here is the north, the clouds are catching up,
He breathed, howled - and here she is
The sorceress winter is coming.
She came and fell apart; shreds
Hanged on the branches of oak trees;
Lay down in wavy carpets
Among the fields, around the hills;
Brega with a still river
She leveled it with a plump veil;
Frost flashed. And we are glad
To the pranks of Mother Winter.
Only Tanya's heart is not happy with her.
She will not be there to greet the winter,
Breathe frosty dust
And the first snow from the roof of the bathhouse
Wash your face, shoulders and chest:
Tatyana is afraid of the winter journey.
The day of departure is long past due,
The deadline is also passing.
Inspected, reupholstered, strengthened
A cart abandoned to oblivion.
Regular convoy, three wagons
Carrying household belongings
Pots, chairs, chests,
Jam in jars, mattresses,
Featherbeds, cages with roosters,
Pots, basins et cetera,
Well, a lot of good stuff.
And here in the hut between the servants
There was a noise, a farewell cry:
Eighteen nags are being led into the yard,
They are harnessed to the boyar's cart,
Chefs preparing breakfast
The wagons are loaded with a mountain,
The women and the coachmen are scolding.
On a skinny and shaggy nag
A bearded postilion sits,
The servants came running at the gate
Say goodbye to bars. And so
We sat down, and the venerable cart,
Sliding, crawls through the gate.
"Sorry, peaceful places!
Sorry, it's a secluded shelter!
Will I see you?.." And the stream flowed
It's pouring out of Tanya's eyes.
When good enlightenment
Let's push more boundaries,
With time (according to calculations)
Philosophical tables
Five hundred years later) the roads, right,
Ours will change immensely:
The Russian highway is here and here,
Having connected, they will cross.
Cast iron bridges over water
They step in a wide arc,
Let's move mountains, underwater
Let's break through the daring vaults,
And he will lead the baptized world
There is a tavern at each station.
Now our roads are bad (42),
Forgotten bridges are rotting,
There are bugs and fleas at the stations
Minutes do not allow you to fall asleep;
There are no taverns. In a cold hut
Pompous but hungry
For appearances the price list is hanging
And the vain teases the appetite,
Meanwhile, the rural cyclops
Before the slow fire
Russian treatment with a hammer
Light product of Europe,
Blessing the ruts
And the ditches of the father's land.
But winters are sometimes cold
The ride is pleasant and easy.
Like a verse without a thought in a fashionable song,
The winter road is smooth.
Automedons are our strikers,
Our threes are tireless,
And miles, delighting the idle gaze,
They flash in your eyes like a fence (43).
Unfortunately, Larina was dragging herself,
Afraid of expensive runs,
Not on postal ones, on our own,
And our maiden enjoyed
Full of road boredom:
They traveled for seven days.
But it's getting close. In front of them
Already white-stone Moscow
Like heat, golden crosses
Ancient chapters are burning.
Ah, brothers! I was so pleased
When churches and bell towers
Gardens, palace semicircle
Suddenly opened up before me!
How often in sorrowful separation,
In my wandering destiny,
Moscow, I was thinking about you!
Moscow... so much in this sound
For the Russian heart it has merged!
How much resonated with him!
Here, surrounded by his own oak grove,
Petrovsky Castle. He's gloomy
He is proud of his recent glory.
Napoleon waited in vain
Intoxicated with the last happiness,
Moscow kneeling
With the keys of the old Kremlin:
No, my Moscow did not go
To him with a guilty head.
Not a holiday, not a receiving gift,
She was preparing a fire
To the impatient hero.
From now on, immersed in thought,
He looked at the menacing flame.
Farewell, witness of fallen glory,
Petrovsky Castle. Well! don't stand,
Let's go! Already the pillars of the outpost
Turning white: now along Tverskaya
The cart rushes over potholes.
The booths and women flash past,
Boys, benches, lanterns,
Palaces, gardens, monasteries,
Bukharians, sleighs, vegetable gardens,
Merchants, shacks, men,
Boulevards, towers, Cossacks,
Pharmacies, fashion stores,
Balconies, lions on the gates
And flocks of jackdaws on crosses.
On this weary walk
An hour or two passes, and then
At Kharitonya's alley
Cart in front of the house at the gate
Has stopped. To the old aunt
The patient has been suffering from consumption for four years,
They have arrived now.
The door opens wide for them,
In glasses, in a torn caftan,
With a stocking in his hand, a gray-haired Kalmyk.
They are greeted in the living room by a scream
The princesses stretched out on the sofa.
The old women hugged each other crying,
And exclamations poured out.
Princess, mon ange! -
"Pachette!" - Alina! -
"Who would have thought? How long ago!
For how long? Darling! Cousin!
Sit down - how tricky it is!
By God, a scene from a novel..."
And this is my daughter, Tatyana. -
"Oh, Tanya! come to me -
It's like I'm wandering in a dream...
Cousin, remember Grandison?"
How, Grandison?.. ah, Grandison!
Yes, I remember, I remember. Where is he? -
“In Moscow, lives with Simeon;
He visited me on Christmas Eve;
He recently married his son.
And that one... but we’ll tell you everything later,
Isn't it true? To all her relatives
We'll show Tanya tomorrow.
It’s a pity, I don’t have the strength to drive around;
I can barely drag my feet.
But you are worn out from the road;
Let's go relax together...
Oh, I have no strength... my chest is tired...
Joy is hard for me now,
Not only sadness... my soul,
I'm no good for anything...
When you get old, life is so disgusting..."
And then, completely tired,
She coughed in tears.
Sick and caresses and fun
Tatiana is touched; but she
Not good for a housewarming party
Accustomed to her upper room.
Under a silk curtain
She can't sleep in her new bed,
And the early ringing of bells,
The forerunner of morning labors,
He gets her out of bed.
Tanya sits down by the window.
The dusk is thinning; but she
Does not distinguish its fields:
In front of her is an unfamiliar courtyard,
Stable, kitchen and fence.
And here: for related dinners
They deliver Tanya every day
Present to grandparents
Her absent-minded laziness.
To relatives who arrived from afar,
Everywhere there is an affectionate meeting,
And exclamations, and bread and salt.
"How Tanya has grown! How long has it been
I think I baptized you?
And I took it in my arms!
And I was pulling my ears so hard!
And I fed him gingerbread!”
And the grandmothers repeat in unison:
"How our years fly by!"
But no change is visible in them;
Everything about them is the same as the old model:
At Aunt Princess Elena's
Still the same tulle cap;
Everything is whitewashed Lukerya Lvovna,
Lyubov Petrovna lies all the same,
Ivan Petrovich is just as stupid
Semyon Petrovich is also stingy,
At Pelageya Nikolaevna's
Still the same friend Monsieur Finmouche,
And the same Spitz, and the same husband;
And he, a good member of the club,
Still just as humble, just as deaf
And he also eats and drinks for two.
Their daughters hug Tanya.
Young Graces of Moscow
At first they look around silently
Tatiana from head to toe;
They find her something strange,
Provincial and cutesy
And something pale and thin,
But it’s not bad at all;
Then, submitting to nature,
They make friends with her, take her to their place,
They kiss, gently shake hands,
They whip up her curls according to fashion
And they believe in a sing-song voice
Secrets of the heart, secrets of virgins,
Others' and your own victories,
Hopes, pranks, dreams.
Innocent conversations flow
With the garnish of light slander.
Then, in return for babbling,
Her heartfelt confession
They tenderly demand.
But Tanya, just like in a dream,
He hears their speeches without participation,
Doesn't understand anything
And the secret of your heart,
Treasured treasure of tears and happiness,
Keeps silent meanwhile
And it is not shared with anyone.
Tatyana wants to listen
In conversations, in general conversation;
But everyone in the living room is occupied
Such incoherent, vulgar nonsense;
Everything about them is so pale and indifferent;
They slander even boringly;
In the barren dryness of speech,
Questions, gossip and news
No thoughts will flash for a whole day,
Even by chance, even at random;
The languid mind will not smile,
The heart will not tremble, even for a joke.
And even nonsense is funny
You won’t find it in you, the light is empty.
Archive young men in a crowd
They look at Tanya primly
And about her among themselves
They speak unfavorably.
Some sad jester
Finds her perfect
And, leaning at the door,
He is preparing an elegy for her.
Having met Tanya at the boring aunt,
Vyazemsky somehow sat down with her
And he managed to occupy her soul.
And, noticing her near him,
About her, straightening my wig,
The old man inquires.
But where Melpomene is stormy
A long howl is heard,
Where he waves his tinsel robe
She is in front of a cold crowd,
Where Thalia sleeps quietly
And he doesn’t listen to friendly splashes,
Where is Terpsichore the only one
The young spectator marvels
(Which was also the case in previous years,
In your time and mine)
Didn't contact her
I will not give jealous lorgnettes,
Not a pipe of fashion connoisseurs
From boxes and rows of chairs.
She is also brought to Sobranie.
There is cramped space, excitement, heat,
Music roars, candles sparkle,
Flashing, a whirlwind of fast steams,
Beauties have light dresses,
Choirs full of people,
A vast semicircle of brides,
All the senses are suddenly struck.
Here the dandies seem to be noteworthy
Your impudence, your vest
And an inattentive lorgnette.
Here the hussars are on vacation
They are in a hurry to appear, to thunder,
Shine, captivate and fly away.
The night has many lovely stars,
There are many beauties in Moscow.
But brighter than all the heavenly friends
The moon in the airy blue.
But the one I don't dare
Disturb with my lyre,
Like the majestic moon
Among the wives and maidens, one shines.
With what heavenly pride
She touches the earth!
How full her chest is!
How languid is her wonderful gaze!..
But full, full; stop doing that:
You paid tribute to madness.
Noise, laughter, running, bowing,
Gallop, mazurka, waltz... Meanwhile,
Between two aunts at the column,
Unnoticed by anyone
Tatyana looks and doesn’t see,
He hates the excitement of the world;
She's stuffy here... she's a dream
Strives for life in the field,
To the village, to the poor villagers,
To a secluded corner,
Where a bright stream flows,
To your flowers, to your novels
And into the darkness of the linden alleys,
Where he appeared to her.
So her thought wanders far away:
Both the light and the noisy ball are forgotten,
And meanwhile he doesn’t take his eyes off her
Some important general.
The aunties blinked at each other
And Tanya was elbowed at once,
And each one whispered to her:
Take a quick look to your left. -
"To the left? where? what is it?"
Well, whatever it is, look...
In that pile, see? ahead,
Where there are still two in uniform...
Now he’s moved away... now he’s become sideways... -
"Who? Is this fat general?"
But here we congratulate you on your victory
My dear Tatiana
And we’ll direct our path aside,
So as not to forget who I’m singing about...
By the way, here are two words about that:
I sing to my young friend
And many of his quirks.
Bless my long work,
O you epic muse!
And, handing me the faithful staff,
Don't let me wander at random and crookedly.
Enough. Down with the burden!
I salute classicism:
Even though it’s late, there’s an introduction.
IMAGES OF THE MOSCOW NOBILITY IN A.S. PUSHKIN’S NOVEL “EUGENE ONEGIN”
The novel depicts a broad historical and cultural panorama of the life of the Russian nobility. For this purpose, two most important historical and cultural spaces are being recreated - two capitals, Moscow and St. Petersburg. The role of St. Petersburg and Moscow, replacing each other, in the fate of the heroes and in the development of the plot is important.
The plot begins and ends in St. Petersburg; it is given a supporting role in the composition. St. Petersburg is a city primarily associated with the novel's protagonist, Onegin. The first chapter recreates the life and customs of the St. Petersburg nobility. The predominant motives are novelty, fashion, modernity (Here is my Onegin // Cropped latest fashion). Petersburg - center modern life, the focus of new trends, the Europeanization of the Russian nobility is most strongly manifested here.
Already from the first lines we feel the pomp and emptiness, the “brilliance and poverty” of the St. Petersburg nobility. Here is Onegin's father, who "gave three balls every year and finally squandered it." Here is Onegin himself, who “danced the mazurka easily and bowed at ease,” and “the world decided that he was smart and very nice.” His days pass happily, “three houses are calling for the evening.” He fit in easily high society, where there are “necessary fools”, “fashion models”, “seemingly evil ladies”, “unsmiling” girls. Balls, dinners, children's parties, etc. - these are the main pastimes. Life is “monotonous and colorful,” and “tomorrow is the same as yesterday.”
Through the eyes of a resident of St. Petersburg, Moscow is shown to us - the “bride fair”. Moscow is provincial and somewhat patriarchal. If, when describing St. Petersburg, the poet uses a large number of verbs, then the image of Moscow is made up of nouns, which on an artistic level emphasizes the immobility of this city. And indeed, from the moment Tatyana Larina’s mother left the capital, essentially nothing has changed in her:
But there is no change in them
Everything about them is the same as the old model...
Pushkin branded this world of characters in Griboyedov’s comedy, in which “no changes are visible,” in the seventh chapter of his novel in stanzas that echo Chatsky’s sarcastic monologues:
At Aunt Princess Elena's
Still the same tulle cap;
Everything is whitewashed Lukerya Lvovna,
Lyubov Petrovna lies all the same,
Ivan Petrovich is just as stupid
Semyon Petrovich is also stingy,
At Pelageya Nikolaevna's
Still the same friend Monsieur Finmouche,
Still the same Spitz, and the same husband;
And he’s a good member of the club,
Still just as humble, just as deaf,
And he also eats and drinks for two.
Pushkin masterfully emphasizes the inertia, staticity, and tediousness by repeating the demonstrative words “the same,” “the same,” “the same.”
Lyubov Petrovna lies the same way... Not “the same” lies, but “the same” lies” - is it possible to say more precisely about the stagnation of thoughts and feelings of this circle! And although the poet does not show a homogeneous crowd - a faceless monolith, the image of high society is such that people seem like flies caught in a sticky web!
The conversations and gossip of these characters were empty and vulgar; in the living room they were occupied
Such incoherent vulgar nonsense;
They slander even boringly;
In the barren dryness of speech,
Questions, gossip and news,
No thoughts will flash for a whole day,
Even by chance, even at random;
The languid mind will not smile,
The heart will not tremble, even for a joke.
And even nonsense is funny
You won’t find it in you, the light is empty.
Then, at the beginning of the 19th century, the general appearance of Moscow was that of an estate and nobility. All of her lifestyle was still full of echoes of the 18th century. In the “retired capital”, which St. Petersburg residents disdainfully called a province, retired Catherine’s nobles lived out their lives. Moscow was, as the memoirist put it, “the invalid’s home of all Russian nobles, noble and non-noble, bureaucratic and non-official.”
The nobility and court favorites who moved to Moscow furnished it with magnificent buildings. Unoccupied and quite wealthy noble Moscow society filled his idle and carefree life with an endless string of entertainment. The day of Moscow leisure lovers began with them visiting all the houses they knew. Visits were made around 11 o'clock in the morning, some dandies "rode in carriages without locking the doors - there were so many acquaintances and their acquaintances lived so close to each other." After the visits, it was considered necessary to attend one of the Moscow festivities. Tverskoy Boulevard was a fashionable promenade in Moscow. During the hours of aristocratic society's walks around Tverskoy Boulevard the entire Strastnaya Square was full of crews who had come for the festivities.
No less favorite place During the walks of Moscow leisure lovers, there was the Kuznetsky Bridge - “a sanctuary of luxury and fashion.”
The noble society departed from the festivities for breakfasts and lunches, formal and casual. After dinners it was time for balls and theaters.
Thus, in complete idleness, in countless amusements, the life of the vast majority of the noble society of Moscow passed. Science was not considered a noble matter. To Russian scientists and teachers Russian nobility treated arrogantly and disrespectfully. But next to this well-fed, idle, frivolous, vain and ignorant patriarchal “Famusov” Moscow there was another - “bright, educated Moscow.” Truly cultured people lived in this Moscow educated people. By the way, the Pushkins also belonged to a cultural Moscow that lived by the interests of literature, art, and the public.
After leaving the Lyceum, Pushkin leads the “life of Onegin” in St. Petersburg. But the noisy whirlpool of St. Petersburg passions does not drown out his memories of “old lady Moscow.” He writes in 1819 in a letter to Vsevolozhsky, one of his St. Petersburg friends:
Diverse and lively
Moscow captivates with its diversity,
Ancient luxury, feasts,
Brides, bells,
Fun, light fuss,
Innocent prose and poetry.
You're there on noisy evenings
You will see important Idleness,
Pretense in thin lace
And Stupidity in gold glasses,
And heavy Nobility fun,
And Boredom with cards in hand.
Giving this ironic characterization of the Moscow noble society, which the Poet could observe in childhood, he seems to emphasize the independence of Moscow in contrast to the bureaucratic, servile St. Petersburg.
After his exile in Moscow, Pushkin was a frequent visitor to the house of Maria Ivanovna Rimskaya-Korsakova, who, as Vyazemsky put it, “should have an honorable place in the traditions of hospitable Moscow.” Pushkin was infatuated with one of Rimskaya-Korsakova’s daughters, Alexandra. A trace of this passion is the 52nd stanza of the seventh chapter of “Eugene Onegin”:
The night has many lovely stars,
There are many beauties in Moscow.
But brighter than all the heavenly friends
Moon in the airy blue
But the one I don't dare
Disturb with my lyre,
Like a majestic moon
Among the wives and maidens, one shines.
With what heavenly pride
The foot touches the ground!
How full her chest is!
How languid is her wonderful gaze!..
But that's enough, that's enough! Stop doing that!
You paid tribute to madness!
Evidence from contemporaries suggests that slander and gossip grew around Pushkin. Feeling the weight of political oppression, surrounded by Beckendorf's spies, Pushkin experienced anxiety, he was overcome by melancholy, and some repeated vile gossip. “Moscow treated him ignoblely: after immoderate praise and flattering receptions, they cooled towards him, even began to slander him, accusing him of flattery, gossip and espionage for the state. This was the reason that he left Moscow."
Speaking about Moscow, in this case we do not mean Pushkin’s immediate circle, his literary friends; The freedom-loving youth were also innocent of slander and gossip. All that Moscow of the Famusovs, those “voluntary slaves” whom Pushkin recalls in the last stanzas of the sixth chapter of “Eugene Onegin,” lied and slandered.
Pushkin, adding Griboyedov’s lines to the epigraph of the seventh chapter, thereby emphasized that little has changed in Moscow since the time of Famusov. Ancient capital has always been patriarchal. So, for example, Tatyana is met at her aunt’s by a gray-haired Kalmyk, and the fashion for Kalmyks was in late XVIII century.
The Moscow nobility is a collective image, in contrast to the St. Petersburg nobility, where Eugene Onegin is the main character. Pushkin, speaking about Moscow, seems to populate it with heroes Griboyedov's comedy, which time has not changed (“But no change is visible in them, / Everything about them is like the old model...”). Appears in Moscow society and the real historical figure: "Vyazemsky somehow sat down with her (Tatyana)...". But in Moscow there is still the same bustle, “noise, laughter, running around, bowing,” which leaves both Tatyana and the author indifferent.
The author himself assesses the influence of high society ambiguously. Chapter 1 gives sharply satirical image Sveta. The tragic chapter 6 ends lyrical digression- the author’s thoughts about the age limit that he is preparing to cross: “Am I going to be thirty years old soon?” And he calls on “young inspiration” to save the “soul of the poet” from death, to prevent
Get stoned
In the deadening ecstasy of light,
In this pool where I am with you
I'm swimming, dear friends!
So, a whirlpool that deadens the soul.
But here is the 8th chapter:
And now I'm a muse for the first time
I bring it to a social event.
She likes order and slender
oligarchic conversations,
And the coldness of calm pride,
And this mixture of ranks and years.
Y. Lotman explains this contradiction very correctly: “The image of light received a double illumination: on the one hand, the world is soulless and mechanistic, it remained an object of condemnation, on the other hand, as the sphere in which Russian culture develops, life is inspired by the play of intellectual and spiritual forces, Poetry, pride, like the world of Karamzin and the Decembrists, Zhukovsky and the author of “Eugene Onegin” himself, it retains unconditional value.
Society is heterogeneous. It depends on the person himself whether he will accept moral laws the cowardly majority or the best representatives of the world."
It is noteworthy that Onegin does not appear in Moscow (compositionally, the Moscow episode is symmetrical to “Onegin’s Journey”, where, accordingly, Tatyana does not appear). It can be noted that from a cultural and mythological perspective, Moscow is associated with the feminine, and St. Petersburg with the masculine. In accordance with this, in Moscow it is important women's World, the world of “grandmothers” (“And in chorus the grandmothers repeat: // “How our years fly!”).
It is difficult, almost impossible, to create work of art a picture of a certain era, using only images of the main characters and pointing to specific historical or social events. It will be only a sketch, an incomplete sketch, without shades and halftones that appear when compared. That is why the author’s digressions are so important in the novel, creating a bright background for the picture of that time and making the images of the main characters even more prominent. No less important is the depiction of minor heroes, types of the nobility of that time. Is it conceivable to imagine Onegin, Tatyana, Lensky, Olga outside their environment? This a rhetorical question, the answer to which is clear. Pushkin gives us the opportunity to understand how his main characters perceive life by depicting their attitude to events and those around them.
The types surrounding Evgeniy and Vladimir in the village resemble a choir puppet theater, where the dolls, synchronously opening their mouths, sing in one voice:
Their conversation is sensible
About haymaking, about wine,
About the kennel, about my relatives,
Of course, he didn’t shine with any feeling,
Not with poetic fire
Neither wit nor intelligence!..
But maybe we are facing a wretched province, and in Moscow everything is different? But no. We also see Moscow nobles - the Larins' relatives and the capital's high society. Moscow young ladies look down on Tatyana's provincial outfit and hairstyles, but
Occupies everyone in the living room
Such incoherent, vulgar nonsense;
Everything about them is so pale and indifferent;
They slander even boringly.
In the barren dryness of speech,
Questions, gossip and news
No thoughts flash for a whole day...
Describing Moscow nobility, Pushkin is often sarcastic: in living rooms he notices “incoherent vulgar nonsense” and sadly notes that in the conversations of the people whom Tatyana meets in the living room, “thoughts will not flare up for the whole day.”
In a word, Tatiana’s Moscow surroundings differ from the rural ones only in appearance. It is here that a lady can appear who, like the mother of Olga and Tatyana, is in love with novels “not because she read them,” but after listening to her cousin’s enthusiastic reviews!
Pushkin was close to Decembrist circles, so he sharply condemned the socio-political views of the patriarchal nobility. The main occupation of the Moscow nobles is empty chatter, blind imitation of everything foreign, gossip that spreads with instant speed. Pushkin states with undisguised regret that a person’s fame depends on his financial situation. The author exposes female power in the novel. Let us pay attention to the finest Pushkin detail. First, “Monsieur” appears, and then the Pomeranian and the husband. Pushkin shows the lack of spirituality of metropolitan society, their empty interests, futility and mental limitations. What significant difference do we see between life in the capitals and in the provinces? Inaction and rigidity of morals are present everywhere, but the more educated metropolitan nobles are higher on the hierarchical ladder than the local ones. Time seemed to have stopped in Moscow (“But no change is visible in them...”).
Practicality of mind is what distinguishes a provincial from a socialite from St. Petersburg. If the capital's dandies follow fashion in everything, then the main feature of the province is loyalty to the old days; new habits have not yet had time to reach the outback. Just like in St. Petersburg, people on the outskirts love balls, and therefore eat well. Food here is both a tradition and a cure for boredom.
The famous ritual of treats,
They carry jam on saucers.
The Moscow nobility is heavier. Although here too there is “noise, laughter, running, bowing, Gallop, mazurka, waltz...”. It is not surprising that Tatyana is “stuffy here.” Quite often, hidden ridicule is used when the author draws Moscow society:
“Here, however, was the color of the capital,
And know, and fashion samples,
Faces you meet everywhere.
Necessary fools."
Moscow acquaintances of the Larins vying with each other to talk about how Tanya has grown. They themselves, however, do not change.
And then he begins to list their “unchangeable” qualities in such a way that the reader involuntarily feels a shudder at such astonishing emptiness, and even with the “varnish of slight slander.” True, “they slander even boringly.” A few stanzas, and the era, according to L. Tolstoy, the most favorable living conditions, but who spent them on balls, holidays, duels, is forever captured.
In the rapidly changing pictures of the Moscow mosaic, Pushkin noted typical features appearance capital Cities. that time with its pronounced social contrasts.
Pushkin’s new acquaintances were also reflected in this chapter. He ironically mentions a group of noble youth who served in the Moscow archives of the State Collegium of Foreign Affairs and received the nickname “archive youths”, coined by Sobolevsky.
Giving a picture of a noble ball in Noble Assembly, Pushkin, with quick strokes, mockingly draws the figures of the “Leads of the Notes”:
She is brought to the Assembly:
There is cramped space, excitement, heat,
Music roars, candles sparkle,
Flashing, a whirlwind of fast steams,
Beauties have light dresses,
Choirs full of people,
A vast semicircle of brides,
All the senses are suddenly struck.
Here the dandies seem to be noteworthy
Your impudence, your vest
And an inattentive lorgnette.
Here the hussars are on vacation
They are in a hurry to appear, to thunder,
Shine, captivate and fly away.
N.I.’s idea is interesting. Mikhailova: “Pushkin creates collective portrait Moscow society in the spirit of Griboyedov’s comedy “Woe from Wit”. But, of course, this style of depicting Moscow residents, reminiscent of Griboyedov’s, is only one of the facets of her image in Eugene Onegin. In addition, here Pushkin clearly does not aim at accusatory and caustic ridicule. The reader is presented with hospitable antiquity, in which there is a lot of funny and at the same time organic, truly Russian, deeply poetic. It is not for nothing that Pushkin calls Tatyana’s young relatives, who “make friends with her and take her to themselves,” “the young graces of Moscow.”
It turns out that all layers of the nobility: rural, Moscow and St. Petersburg are practically indistinguishable. So Tatyana is an exception to the rule, and Onegin is not “ extra person"in this society, but simply an extraordinary person who has outgrown his environment, may not wait for changes in it, but is forced to live and wants to live with dignity and reason, and therefore looks condescendingly at those who have not managed to rise, forever frozen in the sticky web of everyday life.
