Prose scarlet sails excerpt. Scarlet Sails

Dear friends, we invite you to the “brilliant world” of Alexander Green - bright and mysterious! In this world, unusual projects appear, the wildest fantasies come true. It is home to strong, courageous heroes who create miracles with their own hands, truly love and hate just as much. In the world of Alexander Green, love and justice most often triumph, and human happiness is realized. This is how the romantic writer is close to us, today's readers - eternal ideals always inspire people!

Excerpt from a book

Longren, a sailor of the Orion, a strong three-hundred-ton brig on which he served for ten years and to which he was more attached than another son to his own mother, had to finally leave the service.

It happened like this. On one of his rare returns home, he did not see, as always from afar, his wife Mary on the threshold of the house, throwing up her hands and then running towards him until she lost her breath. Instead, an excited neighbor stood by the crib - a new item in Longren's small house.

“I followed her for three months, old man,” she said, “look at your daughter.”

Dead, Longren bent down and saw an eight-month-old creature intently looking at his long beard, then he sat down, looked down and began to twirl his mustache. The mustache was wet, as if from rain.

- When did Mary die? - he asked.

The woman told a sad story, interrupting the story with touching gurgles to the girl and assurances that Mary was in heaven. When Longren found out the details, heaven seemed to him a little brighter than a woodshed, and he thought that the fire of a simple lamp - if all three of them were now together - would be an irreplaceable consolation for a woman who had gone to an unknown country.

Three months ago, the young mother’s economic affairs were very bad. Of the money left by Longren, a good half was spent on treatment after a difficult birth and on caring for the health of the newborn; finally, the loss of a small but necessary amount for life forced Mary to ask Menners for a loan of money. Menners ran a tavern and a shop and was considered a wealthy man.

Mary went to see him at six o'clock in the evening. At about seven the narrator met her on the road to Liss. Mary, tearful and upset, said that she was going to the city to pawn her engagement ring. She added that Menners agreed to give money, but demanded love for it. Mary achieved nothing.

“We don’t even have a crumb of food in our house,” she told her neighbor. “I’ll go into town, and the girl and I will get by somehow until my husband returns.”

The weather was cold and windy that evening; The narrator tried in vain to persuade the young woman not to go to Lis before nightfall. “You’ll get wet, Mary, it’s drizzling, and the wind, no matter what, will bring downpour.”

We love fairy tales, but we don’t believe in them, giving our thoughts to everyday life.
On this quiet Sunday evening, when there is a chance to raise your eyes from the gray dust of worries and everyday life, I propose to re-read a couple of fragments from Alexander Green’s story “Scarlet Sails”.
Of course, everyone has seen the film, but these lines will help us remember that we, too, can do real miracles.
With my own hands.

Konstantin ZHUKOV

In the evening the silk arrived; five sailing ships hired by Gray accommodated sailors; Letika had not yet returned and the musicians had not arrived; While waiting for them, Gray went to talk with Panten.
It should be noted that Gray sailed with the same team for several years. At first, the captain surprised the sailors with the vagaries of unexpected flights, stops - sometimes for months - in the most non-commercial and deserted places, but gradually they became imbued with Gray's "grayism". He often sailed with only ballast, refusing to take advantageous freight just because he did not like the cargo offered. No one could persuade him to carry soap, nails, machine parts and other things that are gloomily silent in the holds, evoking lifeless ideas of boring necessity. But he willingly loaded fruits, porcelain, animals, spices, tea, tobacco, coffee, silk, valuable tree species: black, sandalwood, palm. All this corresponded to the aristocracy of his imagination, creating a picturesque atmosphere; It is not surprising that the crew of the Secret, thus brought up in the spirit of originality, looked somewhat down on all other ships, shrouded in the smoke of flat profit. Still, this time Gray met questions in the faces; The stupidest sailor knew perfectly well that there was no need to make repairs in the forest river bed.

It was a white morning hour; There was a thin vapor in the huge forest, full of strange visions. An unknown hunter, who had just left his fire, was moving along the river; the gap of its airy voids shone through the trees, but the diligent hunter did not approach them, examining the fresh trail of a bear heading towards the mountains.
The sudden sound rushed through the trees with the surprise of an alarming pursuit; it was the clarinet that sang. The musician, coming out on deck, played a fragment of a melody, full of sad, drawn-out repetition. The sound trembled like a voice hiding grief; intensified, smiled with a sad overflow and broke off. A distant echo dimly hummed the same melody.
The hunter, marking the trail with a broken branch, made his way to the water. The fog has not yet cleared; in it the outlines of a huge ship faded, slowly turning towards the mouth of the river. Its furled sails came to life, hanging in festoons, straightening out and covering the masts with helpless shields of huge folds; Voices and footsteps were heard. The coastal wind, trying to blow, lazily fiddled with the sails; Finally, the warmth of the sun produced the desired effect; the air pressure intensified, dissipated the fog and poured out along the yards into light scarlet forms full of roses. Pink shadows slid across the whiteness of the masts and rigging, everything was white except the outstretched, smoothly moving sails, the color of deep joy.
The hunter, looking from the shore, rubbed his eyes for a long time until he was convinced that he saw exactly this way and not otherwise. The ship disappeared around the bend, and he still stood and watched; then, silently shrugging his shoulders, he went to his bear.
While the "Secret" was moving along the riverbed, Gray stood at the helm, not trusting the sailor to take the helm - he was afraid of the shallows. Panten sat next to him, in a new cloth pair, in a new shiny cap, shaved and humbly pouting. He still did not feel any connection between the scarlet decoration and Gray's direct goal.
“Now,” said Gray, “when my sails are red, the wind is good, and my heart is more happy than an elephant at the sight of a small bun, I will try to tune you with my thoughts, as I promised in Lisse.” Please note - I do not think you are stupid or stubborn, no; you are an exemplary sailor, and that is worth a lot. But you, like the majority, listen to the voices of all the simple truths through the thick glass of life; they scream, but you won't hear. I do what exists as an ancient idea of ​​the beautiful and unrealizable, and which, in essence, is as feasible and possible as a country walk. Soon you will see a girl who cannot and should not get married otherwise than in the way that I am developing before your eyes.
He concisely conveyed to the sailor what we know well, ending the explanation like this: “You see how closely fate, will and character traits are intertwined here; I come to the one who is waiting and can wait only for me, but I don’t want anyone else but her, maybe precisely because thanks to her I understood one simple truth. It is about doing so-called miracles with your own hands. When the main thing for a person is to receive the dearest nickel, it is easy to give this nickel, but when the soul conceals the seed of a fiery plant - a miracle, give him this miracle if you are able. He will have a new soul and you will have a new one. When the head of the prison himself releases the prisoner, when the billionaire gives the scribe a villa, an operetta singer and a safe, and the jockey at least once holds his horse for another horse who is unlucky, then everyone will understand how pleasant it is, how inexpressibly wonderful. But there are no less miracles: a smile, fun, forgiveness, and the right word spoken at the right time. To own this is to own everything. As for me, our beginning - mine and Assol's - will remain for us forever in the scarlet glow of the sails created by the depths of the heart, which knows what love is. Do you understand me?
- Yes captain. - Panten grunted, wiping his mustache with a neatly folded clean handkerchief. - I got it. You touched me. I’ll go downstairs and ask for forgiveness from Nix, whom I scolded yesterday for the sunken bucket. And I’ll give him tobacco - he lost his at cards.
Before Gray, somewhat surprised by such a quick practical result of his words, had time to say anything, Panten had already thundered down the ramp and sighed somewhere distantly. Gray turned around, looking up; the scarlet sails silently tore above him; the sun at their seams shone with purple smoke. The "Secret" was heading out to sea, moving away from the shore. There was no doubt about Gray's sonorous soul - no dull sounds of alarm, no noise of petty worries; calmly, like a sail, he rushed towards an amazing goal; full of those thoughts that are ahead of words.
By noon, the smoke of a military cruiser appeared on the horizon, the cruiser changed course and from a distance of half a mile raised a signal - “to drift!”
“Brothers,” Gray said to the sailors, “they won’t fire at us, don’t be afraid; they simply don't believe their eyes.
He ordered to drift. Panten, screaming as if on fire, brought the Secret out of the wind; the ship stopped, while a steam boat with a crew and a lieutenant in white gloves rushed away from the cruiser; The lieutenant, stepping onto the deck of the ship, looked around in amazement and went with Gray to the cabin, from where an hour later he went, strangely waving his hand and smiling, as if he had received a rank, back to the blue cruiser. Apparently, this time Gray had more success than with the simple-minded Panten, since the cruiser, after hesitating, hit the horizon with a mighty volley of fireworks, the rapid smoke of which, piercing the air with huge sparkling balls, dissipated in shreds over the calm water. All day long a certain semi-festive stupor reigned on the cruiser; the mood was unofficial, downcast - under the sign of love, which was talked about everywhere - from the salon to the engine hold, and the sentry of the mine compartment asked a passing sailor:
- "Tom, how did you get married?" “I caught her by the skirt when she wanted to jump out of the window from me,” said Tom and proudly twirled his mustache.
For some time the "Secret" sailed on an empty sea, without shores; By noon the distant shore opened up. Taking the telescope, Gray stared at Caperna. If not for the row of roofs, he would have seen Assol in the window of one house, sitting behind a book. She read; A greenish bug crawled along the page, stopping and rising on its front legs with an independent and domestic look. Twice already he had been blown onto the windowsill without annoyance, from where he appeared again trustingly and freely, as if he wanted to say something. This time he managed to get almost to the girl’s hand holding the corner of the page; here he got stuck on the word “look”, stopped doubtfully, expecting a new squall, and, indeed, barely avoided trouble, since Assol had already exclaimed: “Again, the bug... fool!..” - and wanted to decisively blow the guest away grass, but suddenly a random transition of her gaze from one roof to another revealed to her a white ship with scarlet sails on the blue sea gap of the street space.
She shuddered, leaned back, froze; then she jumped up sharply with her heart sagging dizzily, bursting into uncontrollable tears of inspired shock. The "Secret" at this time was rounding a small cape, keeping to the shore at the angle of the port side; soft music flowed into the blue day from the white deck under the fire of scarlet silk; music of rhythmic overflows, conveyed not entirely successfully by the words known to everyone: “Pour, pour glasses - and let’s drink, friends, to love”... - In its simplicity, exultingly, excitement unfolded and rumbled.
Not remembering how she left the house, Assol fled to the sea, caught by the irresistible wind of the event; at the first corner she stopped almost exhausted; her legs were giving way, her breathing was faltering and extinguished, her consciousness was hanging on by a thread. Beside herself with fear of losing her will, she stamped her foot and recovered. At times the roof or the fence hid the scarlet sails from her; then, fearing that they had disappeared like a simple ghost, she hurried to pass the painful obstacle and, seeing the ship again, stopped to breathe a sigh of relief.
Meanwhile, such confusion, such excitement, such general unrest occurred in Caperna, which would not yield to the affect of the famous earthquakes. Never before had a large ship approached this shore; the ship had those same sails whose name sounded like a mockery; now they glowed clearly and irrefutably with the innocence of a fact that refutes all the laws of existence and common sense. Men, women, children rushed to the shore in a hurry, who was wearing what; the inhabitants called to each other from courtyard to courtyard, jumped on each other, screamed and fell; Soon a crowd formed by the water, and Assol quickly ran into this crowd. While she was away, her name flew among people with nervous and gloomy anxiety, with angry fear. The men did most of the talking; The stupefied women sobbed in a strangled, snake-like hiss, but if one began to crack, the poison got into the head. As soon as Assol appeared, everyone fell silent, everyone moved away from her in fear, and she was left alone in the middle of the emptiness of the sultry sand, confused, ashamed, happy, with a face no less scarlet than her miracle, helplessly stretching out her hands to the tall ship.
A boat full of tanned oarsmen separated from him; among them stood someone whom, as it seemed to her now, she knew, vaguely remembered from childhood. He looked at her with a smile that warmed and hurried her. But thousands of last funny fears overcame Assol; mortally afraid of everything - mistakes, misunderstandings, mysterious and harmful interference - she ran waist-deep into the warm swaying waves, shouting: “I’m here, I’m here!” It's me!
Then Zimmer waved his bow - and the same melody rang through the nerves of the crowd, but this time in a full, triumphant chorus. From the excitement, the movement of clouds and waves, the shine of the water and the distance, the girl could almost no longer distinguish what was moving: she, the ship or the boat - everything was moving, spinning and falling.
But the oar splashed sharply near her; she raised her head. Gray bent down and her hands grabbed his belt. Assol closed her eyes; then, quickly opening her eyes, she boldly smiled at his shining face and, out of breath, said: “Absolutely like that.”
- And you too, my child! - Gray said, taking the wet jewel out of the water. - Here I come. Do you recognize me?
She nodded, holding onto his belt, with a new soul and tremulously closed eyes. Happiness sat inside her like a fluffy kitten. When Assol decided to open her eyes, the rocking of the boat, the shine of the waves, the approaching, powerfully tossing board of the Secret - everything was a dream, where the light and water swayed, swirling, like the play of sunbeams on a wall streaming with rays. Not remembering how, she climbed the ladder in Gray's strong arms. The deck, covered and hung with carpets, in the scarlet splashes of the sails, was like a heavenly garden. And soon Assol saw that she was standing in the cabin - in a room that could not be better.
Then from above, shaking and burying the heart in its triumphant cry, huge music rushed again. Again Assol closed her eyes, afraid that all this would disappear if she looked. Gray took her hands and, knowing now where it was safe to go, she hid her face, wet with tears, on the chest of her friend, who had come so magically. Carefully, but with laughter, himself shocked and surprised that an inexpressible, inaccessible precious minute had come, Gray lifted up by the chin this long-dreamed-of face, and the girl’s eyes finally opened clearly. They had all the best of a person.
- Will you take my Longren to us? - she said.
- Yes. - And he kissed her so hard following his iron “yes” that she laughed.
Now we will walk away from them, knowing that they need to be together alone. There are many words in the world in different languages ​​and different dialects, but with all of them, even remotely, you cannot convey what they said to each other that day.
Meanwhile, on the deck near the mainmast, near a worm-eaten barrel with a broken bottom, revealing a hundred-year-old dark grace, the entire crew was waiting. Atwood stood; Panten sat decorously, beaming like a newborn. Gray rose up, gave a sign to the orchestra and, taking off his cap, was the first to scoop up holy wine with a cut glass, in the song of golden trumpets.
“Well, here...” he said, finishing drinking, then threw the glass. - Now drink, drink everyone; He who does not drink is my enemy.
He didn't have to repeat those words. While the "Secret" was moving away from Caperna, who had been horrified forever, at full speed, under full sail, the crush around the barrel surpassed everything that happens on great holidays.

When it began to get light the next day, the ship was far from Kaperna. Part of the crew fell asleep and remained lying on the deck, overcome by Gray’s wine; Only the helmsman and the watchman remained on their feet, and the pensive and intoxicated Zimmer, who sat in the stern with the neck of his cello under his chin. He sat, quietly moved his bow, making the strings speak in a magical, unearthly voice, and thought about happiness...

My english and Turkish friends are always asking me: why Russians became so inspired and dreamy looking on each yacht or gulet with red sails.
The answer is inside a story.
I"m proudly recommend this evergreen novel by Russian writer Alexander Grin about a little girl named Assol, who meets a wizard one day. The wizard tells her that a ship with red sails will arrive -- sometime in the future - to take her away to a new, happy life with a dashing young prince. She holds onto this prediction in spite of taunts and the ridicule of her neighbors. Meanwhile, the son of a local nobleman grows up to become a sea captain and falls in love with Assol. Sure enough, he decides the only way to win her heart is to unfurl red sails and head into port.

After reading you will have an opportunity to become more close to understanding of Russian soul.
Konstantin Zhukov

“You have nothing to fear from me,” he said seriously. “On the contrary, I want to talk to you to my heart’s content.” “It was only then that he realized what was so closely marked by his impression in the girl’s face. “An involuntary expectation of a beautiful, blissful fate,” he decided. - Oh, why wasn’t I born a writer? What a glorious story."

“Come on,” Egle continued, trying to round out the original position (the tendency to create myths, a consequence of constant work, was stronger than the fear of planting the seeds of a major dream on unknown soil), “come on, Assol, listen to me carefully.” I was in that village - where you must be coming from, in a word, in Kaperna. I love fairy tales and songs, and I sat in that village all day, trying to hear something no one had heard. But you don't tell fairy tales. You don't sing songs. And if they tell and sing, then, you know, these stories about cunning men and soldiers, with the eternal praise of cheating, these dirty, like unwashed feet, rough, like a rumbling stomach, short quatrains with a terrible motive... Stop, I’m lost. I'll speak again. After thinking, he continued: “I don’t know how many years will pass, but in Kaperna one fairy tale will bloom, memorable for a long time.” You will be big, Assol. One morning, in the distant sea, a scarlet sail will sparkle under the sun. The shining bulk of the scarlet sails of the white ship will move, cutting through the waves, straight towards you. This wonderful ship will sail quietly, without shouts or shots; a lot of people will gather on the shore, wondering and gasping: and you will stand there. The ship will approach majestically to the very shore to the sounds of beautiful music; elegant, in carpets, in gold and flowers, a fast boat will sail from him. - “Why did you come? Who are you looking for?" - people on the shore will ask. Then you will see a brave handsome prince; he will stand and stretch out his hands to you. - “Hello, Assol! - he will say. “Far, far from here, I saw you in a dream and came to take you to my kingdom forever.” You will live there with me in the deep pink valley. You will have everything you want; We will live with you so friendly and cheerfully that your soul will never know tears and sadness.” He will put you on a boat, bring you to the ship, and you will leave forever to a brilliant country where the sun rises and where the stars will descend from the sky to congratulate you on your arrival.

- It's all for me? – the girl asked quietly. Her serious eyes, cheerful, shone with confidence. A dangerous wizard, of course, would not talk like that; she came closer. - Maybe he has already arrived... that ship?

“Not so soon,” Egle objected, “first, as I said, you will grow up.” Then... What can I say? – it will be, and it’s over. What would you do then?

- I? “She looked into the basket, but apparently did not find anything there worthy of serving as a significant reward. “I would love him,” she said hastily, and added, not quite firmly, “if he doesn’t fight.”

“No, he won’t fight,” said the wizard, winking mysteriously, “he won’t, I guarantee it.” Go, girl, and don’t forget what I told you between two sips of aromatic vodka and thinking about the songs of convicts. Go. May there be peace to your furry head!

Longren was working in his small garden, digging up potato bushes. Raising his head, he saw Assol running headlong towards him with a joyful and impatient face.

“Well, here...” she said, trying to control her breathing, and grabbed her father’s apron with both hands. – Listen to what I’ll tell you... On the shore, far away, there is a wizard sitting... She started with the wizard and his interesting prediction. The fever of her thoughts prevented her from conveying the incident smoothly. Next came a description of the wizard’s appearance and, in reverse order, the pursuit of the lost yacht.

Longren listened to the girl without interrupting, without smiling, and when she finished, his imagination quickly depicted an unknown old man with aromatic vodka in one hand and a toy in the other. He turned away, but, remembering that on great occasions in a child’s life it is proper for a person to be serious and surprised, he solemnly nodded his head, saying: “So, so; according to all signs, there is no one else to be but a wizard. I would like to look at him... But when you go again, don’t turn aside; It's not difficult to get lost in the forest.

Throwing away the shovel, he sat down by the low brush fence and sat the girl on his lap. Terribly tired, she tried to add some more details, but the heat, excitement and weakness made her sleepy. Her eyes stuck together, her head fell on her father’s hard shoulder, a moment - and she would have been carried away into the land of dreams, when suddenly, worried by a sudden doubt, Assol sat up straight, with her eyes closed and, resting her fists on Longren’s vest, said loudly: “What do you think?” , will the magic ship come for me or not?

“He will come,” the sailor calmly answered, “since they told you this, then everything is correct.”

“When he grows up, he’ll forget,” he thought, “but for now... it’s not worth taking such a toy away from you. After all, in the future you will have to see a lot of not scarlet, but dirty and predatory sails: from a distance - elegant and white, close up - torn and arrogant. A passing man joked with my girl. Well?! Good joke! Nothing - just a joke! Look how tired you were - half a day in the forest, in the thicket. And about the scarlet sails, think like me: you will have scarlet sails.”

Assol was sleeping. Longren, taking out his pipe with his free hand, lit a cigarette, and the wind carried the smoke through the fence and into the bush growing on the outside of the garden. A young beggar sat by a bush, with his back to the fence, chewing a pie. The conversation between father and daughter put him in a cheerful mood, and the smell of good tobacco put him in a prey mood. “Give the poor man a smoke, master,” he said through the bars. “My tobacco versus yours is not tobacco, but, one might say, poison.”