Comic opera. A spendthrift, corrected by love" - ​​the first example of a Russian "tearful comedy"


“COMEDY OF MORALS” IN THE WORK OF V. I. LUKIN (1737-1794)

Thus, the comedic character Neumolkov, who was present at the premiere of the comedy “The Enchanted Belt,” in his reality status turns out to be quite equal to those spectators who sat in the St. Petersburg theater hall on the evening of October 27, 1764. On the stage there are original characters, in theater seats - their real prototypes. Flesh and blood people move easily onto the stage like mirror images; the reflected characters just as easily descend from the stage into the audience; they have one circle of life, one common reality. Text and life stand against each other - life looks in the mirror of the stage, Russian comedy recognizes itself as a mirror of Russian life. Perhaps it is precisely thanks to this visibility that another aspect of its relevance specifically for the Russian literary tradition comes to the fore of the mirror comedic world image: moral teaching, the social functionality of comedy - the nerve of the “prepositional direction” and that higher meaning for the sake of which it took shape as an aesthetic theory:

Chistoserdov. You've seen comedies several times and I'm glad that you liked them<...>appeared in their true form. You did not consider them pleasure for the eyes, but benefit for your heart and mind ( "Scrupulous", 192-193).

The passion of the first Russian spectators, who acquired a taste for theatrical spectacles, to see in the performance the same life that they led outside the theater, and in the characters of the comedy - full-fledged people, was so strong that it provoked an incredibly early act of self-awareness of Russian comedy and gave rise to the phenomenon of mistrust of the author to its text and the insufficiency of the literary text in itself to express the entire complex of thoughts that are contained in it. All this required auxiliary elements to clarify the text. Lukin's prefaces and comments, accompanying each artistic publication in “Works and Translations” of 1765, bring comedy as a genre closer to journalism as a form of creativity. The cross-cutting motive of all Lukin’s prefaces is “benefit for the heart and mind,” the ideological purpose of comedy, designed to reflect social life with the sole purpose of eradicating vice and representing the ideal of virtue with the aim of introducing it into public life. The latter is also a mirror act in its own way, only the image in it precedes the object. This is precisely what motivates Lukin’s comedy:

<...>I took up the pen, following only one heartfelt impulse, which makes me seek ridicule of vices and my own pleasure and benefit to my fellow citizens in virtue, giving them an innocent and amusing pastime. (Preface to the comedy "Mot, corrected by love", 6.)

The same motive of direct moral and social benefit of the spectacle determines, in Lukin’s understanding, the purpose of comedy as a work of art. The aesthetic effect that Lukin thought of as the result of his work had for him, first of all, an ethical expression; the aesthetic result - the text as such with its artistic characteristics - was secondary and, as it were, accidental. Characteristic in this regard is the dual focus of comedy and the theory of the comedy genre. On the one hand, all of Lukin’s texts pursue the goal of changing the existing reality distorted by vice towards a moral norm:

<...>By ridiculing the Pustomeli, it was necessary to hope for correction in people subject to this weakness, which in those who had not yet completely destroyed good morals, and followed<...>(Preface to the comedy "Idle talker", 114).

On the other hand, this negating attitude towards correcting a vice through its exact reflection is complemented by the exact opposite task: having reflected a non-existent ideal in a comedy character, comedy strives to cause by this act the emergence of a real object in real life. In essence, this means that the transformative function of comedy, traditionally recognized for this genre by European aesthetics, is adjacent to Lukin’s directly creative one:

Some of the condemners who took up arms against me told me that we had never had such servants before. It will happen, I told them, but I made Vasily for this purpose, in order to produce others like him, and he should serve as a model. (Preface to the comedy "Mot, corrected by love",12.)

It is not difficult to notice that the goals of comedy, realized in this way, organize direct relations between art as a reflected reality and reality as such according to the established models of satire and ode already known in Russian literature of modern times: negative (eradication of vice) and affirmative (demonstration of the ideal). Thus, in the background of Lukin’s ideology and ethics is aesthetics: the ubiquitous genre traditions of satire and ode. Only now these previously isolated trends have discovered a desire to merge into one genre - the genre of comedy. The rapid self-determination of comedy in Russian social life, accompanied by the theoretical self-awareness of the genre as a way of self-determination in ideological Russian life, caused consequences, albeit of two kinds, but closely related. Firstly, comedy, which became a part of national social life with its own place in its hierarchy (the main means of public education), immediately caused a parallel process of intensive expansion of this very life within its framework. Hence the second inevitable consequence: national life, which for the first time became the object of comedic attention, entailed the theoretical crystallization of the idea of ​​national Russian comedy, especially paradoxical against the backdrop of the Western European genesis of the plots and sources of his comedies, which Lukin persistently emphasized. One’s own, however, can only be recognized as such against the background of someone else’s. For example, Sumarokov’s comedies provoked sharp rejection by Lukin with their obvious international plot and thematic realities. However, against the backdrop of these realities, the national originality of the genre model of Sumarokov’s comedies is especially obvious. Lukin's comedy demonstrates the inverse relationship between these same aesthetic categories: the realities are our own, but the genre model is alien. The emphasized opposition of comedy, “inclined to Russian morals,” with foreign comedy, which served as its stronghold, which constitutes the whole meaning of the term “translation,” automatically brings to the fore the category of national specificity of life and the genre that reflects this life. But at the same time, the actual aesthetics of Lukin’s comedy, and this is precisely what should be considered the theory of “transformation” and “inclination to our morals,” i.e. saturation of the source text with national everyday realities, since this is what distinguishes the Russian “output text” from the European “input text”, is secondary in relation to ideology and ethics. Attention to national signs of everyday life is dictated not by artistic interest in this very everyday life, but by the “higher content” of comedy, an extraneous goal:

<...>I will incline all comic theatrical works to our customs, because the audience does not receive any correction in other people's morals from comedy. They think that it is not them, but strangers who are being ridiculed.” (Preface to the comedy "Awarded Consistency" 117.)

The result is not so much a comedy “in our manners”, but rather an idea of ​​a comedy “in our manners” that is yet to appear. But this situation, when the idea, the idea of ​​what should be, is primary and precedes its embodiment in a material object, is completely consistent with the ideas of the 18th century. about the hierarchy of reality. That specific and deeply nationally peculiar turn that the concept of “our morals” acquired under the pen of Lukin had a decisive influence, first of all, on poetics, and then on the problems and formal characteristics of the comedy genre, serving its aesthetic transformation in a fundamentally unconventional structure already beyond Lukinsky system of comedy, from Fonvizin, his successors and heirs. It is obvious that the central concept in Lukin’s comedy theory and practice is the concept of “our morals,” which constitutes a shift between “strangers” and “us,” recognized as the national specificity of Russian theater. Lukin was so firmly able to introduce the category of “our morals” into the aesthetic consciousness of his era that according to the criterion of compliance with “mores” they were assessed until the end of the 18th century. all notable comedy innovations. (Cf. N. I. Panin’s review of the comedy “Brigadier” “<...>“The first comedy is in our morals.”) Therefore, it is absolutely necessary to find out what exactly Lukin understood by the word “mores,” which concentrated the whole meaning of his comedic innovation. And at the very first attempt to define the concept of “our morals” based on Lukin’s declarative statements, an amazing thing is discovered, namely, that the traditional understanding of the category of “mores” is only partially relevant for Lukin. Actually, of all his theoretical statements about “our morals,” only the clerk with a marriage contract falls into this series, who outraged Lukin in Sumarokov’s first comedy with the unnatural alliance of a native Russian word with an overly European function:

<..>A Russian clerk, coming to any house, will ask: “Is M. Orontes’s apartment here?” “Here,” they will tell him, “what do you want from him?” - “Write a wedding contract.”<...>This will turn a knowledgeable viewer's head. In genuine Russian comedy, the name Orontovo, given to the old man, and the writing of a marriage contract are not at all characteristic of the clerk (118-119).

It is characteristic that already in this passage, falling under the same category of “morals”, adjacent to the Russian clerk in the function of a European notary is “the name Orontovo, given to the old man” - a name, that is, a word, especially clearly not Russian in meaning, neither in sound nor in dramatic semantic load. All of Lukin’s widespread statements about the “inclination” of Western European scripts “to our customs” ultimately come down to the problem of anthroponyms and toponyms. It is in this category of words that Lukin sees a concentrate of the concepts of “national” and “mores.” Thus, the word, emphasized by its exclusive belonging to the national culture, becomes the authorized representative of Russian customs and Russian characters in the “genuine Russian comedy”:

It has always seemed unusual to me to hear foreign sayings in such works, which are supposed to correct, by depicting our morals, not so much the common vices of the whole world, but the vices common to our people; and I have repeatedly heard from some spectators that not only their reason, but also their hearing is disgusting if persons, although somewhat similar to our morals, are called Clitander, Dorant, Citalida and Kladina in the performance and speak speeches that do not signify our behavior.<...> There are many more and very small expressions: for example, I recently arrived from Marselia, or I walked in Tulleria, was in Versailles, saw the viccompte, sat with the marquise, and other foreign things.<...> And what kind of connection will there be if the characters are named like this: Geront, the clerk, Fonticidius, Ivan, Fineta, Crispin and the notary. I can’t figure out where these thoughts might come from in order to make such an essay. This matter is truly strange; otherwise it is even stranger to consider it correct (111-113,119).

Perhaps, this apology for the Russian word as the main visual means of Russian life is embodied especially vividly in the preface to the comedy “The Shchepetilnik”, written specifically about the indigenous Russian word and its visual possibilities:

I am writing this preface in defense of just one word<...>, and must certainly defend the name given to this comedy.<...>what word could be used to explain the French word Bijoutier in our language, and I did not find any other way than to, having entered into the essence of that trade from which the French got its name, to come to terms with our trades and consider whether there is something similar to it, that I am without great I found the work and offer it here.<...>And so, having complete disgust for foreign words, our ugly language, I called the comedy "Scrupulous"<...> (189-190).

And if Russian comedians even before Lukin happened to play with the clash of barbarisms with indigenous Russian words as a laughing device, a caricature of Russian vice (cf. the macaronic speech of Sumarokov’s gallomaniacs), then Lukin for the first time not only begins to consciously use a stylistically and nationally colored word as a characterological and evaluative reception, but also draws special attention to it from the public. In the comedy “The Mot, Corrected by Love,” a note was made to the Princess’s remark: “You will stand by my toilet”: “The foreign word is spoken by a coquette, which is proper for her, and if she had not spoken, then of course it would have been written in Russian” (28 ). We find the same kind of note in the comedy “The Scrubber”:

Polydor: If and where there are two or three guests like us, then the company is not considered sparsely populated. All foreign words speak patterns to which they are characteristic; and Shchipetilnik, Chistoserdov and Nephew always speak Russian, except occasionally they repeat the word of some empty talker (202).

Thus, the word is brought to the center of the poetics of Lukin’s comedic “propositions” not only in its natural function as the building material of drama, but also as a signal of additional meanings. From the material and means, the word becomes an independent goal. A halo of associativity appears over its direct meaning, expanding its internal capacity and allowing the word to express something more than its generally accepted lexical meaning. It is with the additional purpose of the word that Lukin’s poetics of meaningful surnames is connected, which he was the first to introduce into comedy not just as a separate technique, but as a universal law of character nomination. Sometimes the concentration of Russian words in significant surnames, names of cities and streets, references to cultural events of Russian life, turns out to be so great in Lukin’s “translations” that the life-like flavor of Russian life created by them comes into conflict with the content of the comedic action unfolding against this Russian background, the nature of which determined by Western European mentality and which does not undergo significant changes in Lukin’s comedies “inclined to Russian morals.” Just as the idea of ​​“our morals” inevitably and clearly emerged against the background of the “alien” source text, “inclined” with Russian words to reflect Russian customs, so the general points of discrepancy between “alien” and “our own” emerged against this verbal background with utmost clarity . “Alien” is emphasized by “one’s own” no less than “one’s own” is emphasized by “alien”, and in this case, “alien” is revealed primarily as the unsuitability of the constructive foundations of the Western European comedy type of action to reflect Russian life and its meanings. The opposition of “us” and “them” has posed for Russian comedy not only the problem of national content, but also the task of finding a specific form for expressing this content. Lukin’s direct declaration of desire to orient his translated comedy texts towards the Russian way of life (“The French, English, Germans and other peoples who have theaters always adhere to their models;<...> Why should we not stick to our own people?” - 116) automatically entailed the idea of ​​a nationally unique comedic structure, not formalized in words, but literally hovering over “Works and Translations,” in which the nature of the conflict, the content and nature of the action, the typology of artistic imagery would acquire correspondence with Russian aesthetic thinking and Russian mentality. And although the full problem of the nationally unique genre form of Russian comedy will find its solution only in the work of the mature Fonvizin, i.e. already beyond the “prepositional direction,” Lukin, however, in his comedies “inclined to Russian morals” managed to outline the prospects for this solutions. Mainly noteworthy in his comedy are further experiments in combining everyday and ideological worldviews within one genre. In this sense, Lukin's comedies are the connecting link between the comedy of Sumarokov and Fonvizin. First of all, the composition of Lukin’s collection “Works and Translations” attracts attention. The first volume included the comedies “The Waste, Corrected by Love” and “Idle Man,” which were presented in one theatrical evening, the second - “Awarded Constancy” and “The Scrupulous Man”; both comedies never saw the theatrical stage. In addition, both volumes are arranged according to the same principle. The first positions in them are occupied by large five-act comedies, according to Lukin’s classification, “action-forming”, which is reflected in the typologically similar titles: “A spendthrift, corrected by love” and “Awarded constancy.” But the comedies, which seem to be inclined toward moralizing and are similar in form, turn out to be completely different in essence. If “The Sprawler Corrected by Love” is a comedy “characteristic, pitiful and filled with noble thoughts” (11), then “Rewarded Constancy” is a typical light or, according to Lukin, “funny” comedy of intrigue. In second place in both parts are small one-act “character” comedies, “Idle Man” and “The Scrupuler”. But again, despite the formal identity, there is an aesthetic opposition: “The Chatterbox” (a pair of “Motu Corrected by Love”) is a typical “funny” comedy of intrigue, “The Scrupulous” (a pair of “Awarded Constancy”) is a serious loveless comedy with a clear satirical, accusatory and apologetic moral task. As a result, the publication as a whole is framed by serious comedies (“The Sprawler, Corrected by Love” and “The Scrupulous Man”), which are connected by semantic rhyming, and funny ones are placed inside, also echoing each other. Thus, “Works and Translations of Vladimir Lukin” appears to its reader with a distinctly cyclical structure, organized according to the principle of a mirror exchange of properties in its constituent microcontexts: comedies alternate according to the characteristics of volume (large - small), ethical pathos (serious - funny) and typology of the genre (comedy of character - comedy of intrigue). At the same time, the macro-context of the cycle as a whole is characterized by a ring composition, in which the ending is a variation on the theme of the beginning. Thus, the properties of the comedic world image, which will have a long life in the genre model of Russian high comedy, are revealed, if not in a single comedic text, then in the totality of Lukin’s comedic texts. Lukin, in other ways, comes to the same result that Sumarokov the comedian will also come to. For both, the genre of comedy is not particularly pure: if Sumarokov’s comedies gravitate towards a tragic ending, then Lukin is very inclined to the genre of “tearful comedy”. For both, the split between the genre form of comedy and its content is obvious, only in Sumarokov the Russian model of the genre is disguised by the international verbal realities of the text, and in Lukin, on the contrary, the national verbal flavor does not fit well into the European genre form. Both systems of comedy cannot claim to be close to national public and private life, but in both, against the background of equally obvious borrowings, the same elements of the future structure emerge equally clearly: “higher content” is an extraneous goal that subordinates comedy as an aesthetic phenomenon to higher ethical ones. and social tasks; gravitation towards a holistic, universal world image, expressed in the obvious tendency towards cyclization of comedy texts.

Poetics of the comedy “The Sprawler, Corrected by Love”: the role of the speaking character The sharpness of Lukin’s literary intuition (far exceeding his modest creative capabilities) is emphasized by the fact that, as a source for his “propositions,” he in most cases chooses texts where a talkative, talkative or preaching character occupies a central place. This increased attention to the independent dramatic possibilities of the act of speaking in its plot, everyday writing or ideological functions is unconditional evidence that Lukin was characterized by a sense of the specificity of “our morals”: ​​Russian enlighteners, without exception, attached fateful meaning to the word as such. Very symptomatic is the practical exhaustion of most of the characters in “Mota Corrected by Love” and “The Scrupulous Man” by the pure act of ideological or everyday speaking, not accompanied on stage by any other action. A word spoken out loud on stage absolutely coincides with its speaker; his role is subject to the general semantics of his word. Thus, the word seems to be embodied in the human figure of the heroes of Lukin’s comedies. Moreover, in the oppositions of vice and virtue, talkativeness is characteristic not only of protagonist characters, but also of antagonist characters. That is, the act of speaking itself appears to Lukin as variable in its moral characteristics, and talkativeness can be a property of both virtue and vice. This fluctuation of a general quality, sometimes humiliating, sometimes elevating its bearers, is especially noticeable in the comedy “Mot, Corrected by Love,” where a pair of dramatic antagonists - Dobroserdov and Zloradov - equally divide large monologues addressed to the audience. And these rhetorical declarations are based on the same supporting motives of a crime against a moral norm, repentance and remorse, but with a diametrically opposed moral meaning:

Dobroserdov.<...>Everything that an unhappy person can feel, I feel everything, but I suffer more than he does. He only has to endure the persecution of fate, and I have to endure repentance and gnawing conscience... From the time I separated from my parents, I constantly lived in vices. Deceived, dissembled, pretended<...>, and now I suffer worthily for it. <...> But I am very happy that I recognized Cleopatra. With her instructions I turned to virtue (30). Zloradov. I’ll go and tell her [the princess] all his [Dobroserdov’s] intentions, make him extremely upset, and then, without wasting any time, reveal that I myself have fallen in love with her a long time ago. She, enraged, will despise him and prefer me. This will certainly come true.<...>Repentance and remorse are completely unknown to me, and I am not one of those simpletons who are horrified by the future life and the torments of hell (40).

The straightforwardness with which the characters declare their moral character from the first appearance on stage makes us see in Lukin a diligent student not only of Detouche, but also of the “father of Russian tragedy” Sumarokov. Combined with the complete absence of a laughter element in Mota, such straightforwardness prompts us to see in Lukin’s work not so much a “tearful comedy” as a “philistine tragedy.” After all, the psychological and conceptual verbal leitmotifs of the play are oriented precisely towards tragic poetics. The emotional picture of the action of the so-called “comedy” is determined by a completely tragic series of concepts: some characters of the comedy are tormented by despair And melancholy, lament, repent And are restless; their torments And conscience gnaws yours misfortune they revere retribution for guilt; their permanent state is tears And cry. Others feel for them a pity And compassion, serving as incentives for their actions. For the image of the main character Dobroserdov, such absolutely tragic verbal motifs as the motifs of death and fate are very relevant:

Stepanida. So is that why Dobroserdov is a completely lost man? (24); Dobroserdov.<...>must endure the persecution of fate<...>(thirty); Tell me, should I live or die? (31); Oh, fate! Reward me with such happiness<...>(33); Oh, merciless fate! (34); Oh, fate! I must thank you and complain about your severity (44); My heart is trembling and, of course, a new blow is foreshadowing. Oh, fate! Do not spare me and fight quickly! (45); A rather angry fate is driving me away. Oh, wrathful fate! (67);<...>It’s best, forgetting insult and revenge, to put an end to my frantic life. (68); Oh, fate! You have added this to my grief, so that he may be a witness to my shame (74).

And quite in the traditions of Russian tragedy, as this genre took shape in the 1750-1760s. under the pen of Sumarokov, the fatal clouds that have gathered over the head of a virtuous character fall with fair punishment on the vicious one:

Zloradov. Oh, bad fate! (78); Dobroserdov-lesser. May he receive a worthy retribution for his villainy (80).

This concentration of tragic motives in a text that has the genre definition of “comedy” is also reflected in the stage behavior of the characters, deprived of any physical action with the exception of the traditional falling to their knees and attempts to draw a sword (62-63, 66). But if Dobroserdov, as the main positive hero of a tragedy, even a philistine one, by his very role is supposed to be passivity, redeemed in dramatic action by speaking akin to tragic recitation, then Zloradov is an active person leading an intrigue against the central character. All the more noticeable against the backdrop of traditional ideas about the role is that Lukin prefers to endow his negative character not so much with action, but with informative speaking, which can anticipate, describe and summarize the action, but is not equivalent to the action itself. Preferring words over action is not just a flaw in Lukin’s dramatic technique; it is also a reflection of the hierarchy of reality in the educational consciousness of the 18th century, and an orientation towards the artistic tradition already existing in Russian literature. Publicistic in its original message and seeking the eradication of vice and the inculcation of virtue, Lukin’s comedy, with its emphasized ethical and social pathos, resurrects the tradition of Russian syncretic preaching-words at a new stage of literary development. The artistic word, put in the service of intentions foreign to it, hardly by chance acquired in Lukin’s comedy and theory a shade of rhetoric and oratory - this is quite obvious in its direct appeal to the reader and viewer. It is no coincidence that among the advantages of an ideal comedian, along with “graceful qualities,” “extensive imagination,” and “important study,” Lukin in the preface to “Motu” also names the “gift of eloquence,” and the style of individual fragments of this preface is clearly oriented toward the laws of oratory. This is especially noticeable in the examples of constant appeals to the reader, in enumeration and repetition, in numerous rhetorical questions and exclamations, and, finally, in the imitation of the written text of the preface under the spoken word, sounding speech:

Imagine, reader.<...>imagine a crowd of people, often more than a hundred people.<...>Some of them sit at the table, others walk around the room, but all of them construct punishments worthy of various inventions to beat their rivals.<...>These are the reasons for their meeting! And you, dear reader, having imagined this, tell me impartially, is there even a spark of good morals, conscience and humanity here? Of course not! But you will still hear! (8).

However, the most curious thing is that Lukin draws on the entire arsenal of expressive means of oratory in the most vivid morally descriptive fragment of the preface, in which he gives a unique genre picture from the life of card players: “Here is a living description of this community and the exercises that take place in it” (10) . And it is hardly by chance that in this seemingly bizarre alliance of high rhetorical and low everyday writing style traditions, Lukin’s favorite national idea reappears:

Some are like the pale faces of the dead<...>; others with bloody eyes - to the terrible furies; others through despondency of spirit - to criminals who are being drawn to execution; others with an extraordinary blush - cranberries<...>but no! It’s better to leave the Russian comparison too! (9).

Regarding the “cranberry”, which really looks like a certain stylistic dissonance next to the dead, furies and criminals, Lukin makes the following note: “This comparison will seem strange to some readers, but not to all. There must be nothing Russian in Russian, and here, it seems, my pen has made no mistake<...>" (9). So again, Sumarokov’s theoretical antagonist Lukin actually draws closer to his literary opponent in practical attempts to express the national idea in the dialogue of older Russian aesthetic traditions and attitudes of satirical everyday life writing and oratory. And if Sumarokov in “The Guardian” (1764-1765) for the first time tried to stylistically differentiate the world of things and the world of ideas and bring them into conflict, then Lukin, parallel to him and simultaneously with him, begins to find out how the aesthetic arsenal of one literary series is suitable for recreating realities another. Oratorical speaking with the aim of recreating the material world image and everyday life, pursuing the high goals of moral teaching and edification - this is the result of such a crossing of traditions. And if in “Mota” Lukin mainly uses oratorical speech in order to create a reliable everyday flavor of the action, then in “The Scrupuler” we see the opposite combination: everyday descriptive plasticity is used for rhetorical purposes.

Poetics of the comedy “The Scrubber”: synthesis of odo-satirical genre formants Lukin “inflected the comedy “The Scrupulous Man” into Russian morals” from the English original, Dodelli’s morally descriptive comedy “The Toy-shop,” which already during Lukin’s time was translated into French under the name “Boutique de Bijoutier” (“Haberdashery Shop”). It is very noteworthy that Lukin himself, in his “Letter to Mr. Elchaninov,” persistently calls both his original and its version “inclined to Russian morals” as “satires”:

<...>I began to get ready to turn this Aglin satire into a comic work.<...>. (184). <...>I noticed that this satire was quite well remade for our theater (186). It [Dodeli's text], transformed into a comic composition, can be called quite good both in content and in caustic satire<...> (186). <...>I received the opportunity to deliver this satirical essay into Russian (188).

It is obvious that the word “satire” is used by Lukin in two meanings: satire as an ethical tendency (“caustic satire”, “satirical essay”) is adjacent to satire as a genre definition (“this Aglinsky satire”, “this satire”). And in full accordance with this second meaning is the world image that is created in “The Shrewd Man” primarily as an image of the world of things, dictated by the very motives of a haberdashery shop and small haberdashery trade, which serve as the plot core for stringing together episodes with a satirical moral descriptive task: an absolute analogy with a genre model of Cantemir’s cumulative satire, where the vice expressed by the concept is developed in a gallery of everyday portraits-illustrations, varying the types of its carriers. Throughout the action, the stage is densely filled with the most diverse things, completely physical and visible: “Both workers, having placed the basket on the bench, take out things and talk.”(197), discussing the merits of such objects hitherto unseen on the Russian stage as spotting scope, groups of cupids depicting art and science, gold watch with alarm clock, snuff boxes alagrek, alasaluet and alabucheron, notebook framed in gold, glasses, scales, rings And rarities: shells from the Euphrates River, which, no matter how small they are, can accommodate predatory crocodiles And stones from the island of Never Never. This parade of objects moving from the hands of the Shrewd Man into the hands of his customers is symptomatically opened by a mirror:

Scrupulous. The mirror is expensive! Glass is the best in the world! The coquette will immediately see all her vile antics in him; pretender - all deceit;<...>many women will see in this mirror that rouge and whitewash, although they spend two pots a day, cannot atone for their shamelessness.<...>Many people, and especially some great gentlemen, will not see here either their great merits, about which they shout every minute, or the favors shown to poor people; however, this was not to blame (203-204).

It is no coincidence that it is the mirror, in its relationship with the reality it reflects, connecting the object and the mirage in likening them to the point of complete indistinguishability, that reveals the true nature of the thing-attributive series in the comedy “The Scrupuler”, which, despite all its formal adherence to satirical everyday poetics, is still ideological, high comedy, since the entire visual arsenal of everyday descriptive plasticity serves in it as a starting point for speaking quite oratorically, if not in its form, then in its content. The thing in “Scrupulous” is a stronghold and a formal occasion for ideological, moralistic and didactic speaking. Lukin's fundamental plot innovation in relation to the original text - the introduction of additional characters, Major Chistoserdov and his nephew, Shchipetilnik's listeners, radically changes the sphere of genre gravity of the English-French morality-descriptive sketch. In the “inclined to our morals” version, the presence of listeners and observers of the haberdashery trade directly on stage turns the meaning of comedy towards education, instilling ideal concepts of office and virtue:

Chistoserdov. I’m already extremely sorry that that mocking Shrewder is still missing<...>; You’ve already heard about it from me more than once. By standing near it, you will recognize more people in two hours than by surviving in the city for two years (193);<...>I brought my nephew here on purpose so that he could listen to your descriptions (201); Chistoserdov. Well, nephew! Do his instructions seem to you as I said? Nephew . They are very pleasant to me, and I wish to listen to them more often (201); Chistoserdov. This evening enlightened my nephew a lot. Nephew (To the scrupulous one).<...> I am for happiness mail, if<...>I will receive useful advice from you (223).

Thus, the everyday-descriptive plot of the comedy is relegated to the background: the dialogues of the Scrupulous Man with customers are filled with “higher content” and acquire the character of demonstrating not so much a thing and its properties, but rather the concepts of vice and virtue. The everyday act of buying and selling becomes a unique form of exposure and edification, in which a thing loses its material nature and turns into a symbol:

Scrupulous. In this snuffbox, no matter how small it is, some of the courtiers can contain all their sincerity, some of the clerks all their honesty, all the coquettes without exception their good manners, helipads all their reason, attorneys all their conscience, and poets all their wealth (204) .

Such a crossing at one point of two planes of action - everyday life and moral description on the one hand, instruction and education - on the other, gives the word in which both actions of the “Scrupuler” are carried out a certain functional and semantic vibration. It is, the word, in “The Scrubber” very bizarre. In its immediate content, it is closely related to the material series and therefore is figurative; It is no coincidence that both he and his partners call Shchitelnik’s monologues descriptions:

Scrupulous. I needed to make this description (204);<...>with or without description? (205); Chistoserdov. You described them with living colors (206);<...>this is the true description of the wife (212); Scrupulous. I will briefly describe to you all their kindness (213).

But this property characterizes the word in “Scrupulous” only at first glance, because ultimately it has a high meaning and claims to immediately transform reality towards its harmonization and bringing it closer to the ideal of virtue:

Scrupulous. I ridiculed Sevodni with twenty exemplary fellows, and only one corrected himself, and everyone got angry.<...>everyone who listens to my jokes deigns to make fun of ridiculed examples and thereby proves that, of course, they don’t find themselves here, because no one likes to laugh at themselves, but everyone is ready to laugh at their neighbor, from which I will wean them until then , until my strength becomes (224).

Addressed and addressed not only to the audience, but also to the listening characters (Chistoserdov and his nephew), the word of the Shchiter is only in form everyday and figurative, but in essence it is a high oratorio, seeking an ideal, and therefore it combines two opposing rhetorical attitudes: panegyric things are blasphemed to the vicious buyer; both the thing and the human character are equalized by their argumentative function in action, serving as nothing more than a visual illustration of the abstract concept of vice (or virtue). Consequently, immersed in the elements of material life and descriptions of vicious morals, the action of “The Scrupuler” actually acquires a high ethical goal and pathos; it operates with ideologemes of honor and office, virtue and vice, although stylistically these two spheres are not distinguished. And in this capacity, the synthesis of everyday and ideological world images, carried out by Lukin on the material of European comedy, turned out to be incredibly promising: Russified comedy seemed to begin to suggest in which direction it needed to be developed so that it could become Russian. Let us remember that the action of raising a pure-hearted nephew begins with a mirror (cf. the famous epigraph of “The Inspector General”), reflecting the crooked faces of the petites, coquettes, nobles, etc. looking at it, and ends with a quote from Boileau’s 7th satire, bringing together laughter and tears in one affect and already sounded earlier in Russian literature: “<...>often the same words that make readers laugh bring tears to the writer's eyes<...>”(224), as well as the reflection that “no one likes to laugh at themselves” (224), in which, with all the desire, it is impossible not to hear the first weak sound, which is about to achieve fortissimo strength in the cry of the soul of Gogol’s Mayor: “Why are you laughing ? “You’re laughing at yourself!” And isn’t it strange that Lukin, who reproached Sumarokov for the lack of beginnings and endings in his comedies, ended up writing the same one himself? And after all, he not only wrote, but also theoretically emphasized these properties of it: “I also regretted a lot that this comedy almost cannot be played, because there is not a love entanglement in it, below the beginning and the denouement<...>"(191). The absence of a love affair as the driving force of comedy and a specific action that seems to have no beginning or end, because the end is closed to the beginning, like life itself - is it possible to more accurately describe the productive genre model that lies ahead for Russian drama in the 19th century? Batyushkov once remarked: “Poetry, I dare say, requires the whole person.” . Perhaps, this judgment can be applied almost more successfully to Russian high comedy from Fonvizin to Gogol: Russian comedy demanded immeasurably more than the whole person: the whole artist. And absolutely all the modest opportunities that the writer V.I. Lukin possessed of average dignity and democratic origin were exhausted by his comedies of 1765. But he left them to future Russian literature, and above all to his colleague in the office of Count N.I. Panin, Fonvizin, a whole scattering of semi-conscious discoveries, which under the pens of other playwrights will sparkle with their own brilliance. However, the moment of Fonvizin’s first high-profile fame (the comedy “Brigadier”, 1769) will coincide with his participation in an equally important literary event of the era: the playwright’s collaboration in the satirical magazines of N.I. Novikov “Drone” and “Painter”, which became the central aesthetic factor of the transition period of Russian history and Russian literature of the 1760-1780s. The genres of journalistic prose developed by the staff of Novikov’s magazines became a particularly clear embodiment of the tendencies towards crossing everyday and existential world images in the totality of their inherent artistic techniques of world modeling, those tendencies that first emerged in the genre system of Sumarokov’s work and found their first expression in Lukin’s comedy of manners.


Term by P. N. Berkov. See his monograph: History of Russian comedy of the 18th century. L., 1977. P.71-82.
Lukin V. I., Elchaninov B. E. Works and translations. St. Petersburg, 1868. P. 100. In the following, Lukin’s prefaces and comedies are quoted from this edition, indicating the page in brackets.
Toporov V. N.“Inclination towards Russian customs” from a semiotic point of view (About one of the sources of Fonvizin’s “Minor”) // Works on sign systems. XXIII. Tartu, 1989 (Issue 855). P.107.
Fonvizin D. I. Sincere confession of my deeds and thoughts // Fonvizin D. I. Collection cit.: In 2 vols. M.;L., 1959.T.2. P.99.
“The general expression of a person’s properties, the constant aspirations of his will<...>. The same property of an entire people, population, tribe, not so much dependent on the personality of each, but on what is conventionally accepted; everyday rules, habits, customs. See: Dal V.I. Explanatory dictionary of the living Great Russian language. M., 1979.T.2. P.558.
See about this: Berkoe P. Ya. History of Russian comedy of the 18th century. L., 1977. P.77-78.
Before Fonvizin, the “ready-made and tested framework” of comedy action, with which its original Russian nature did not fit well, was obvious in almost all comedy writers: in Sumarokov - in the form of plot fragments, behind which Western European texts are discerned; in Lukin and the playwrights of the Elagin school - these plots themselves in its entire (slightly modified) form, and Fonvizin did not go anywhere from the “transformation” even in “The Brigadier”. Only in “The Minor” did the “framework” of comedy become completely “their own”: they caused a lot of bewilderment and critical judgments with their unusual form, but it was no longer possible to reproach them for the lack of originality and national identity.
The symmetrical ring composition of the publication, subject to the principle of parity (two parts of two comedies each), in its structural foundations is extremely reminiscent of the symmetrical mirror structure of the four-act comedy “Woe from Wit”, in the compositional units of which scenes with a predominance of love and social issues. Cm.: Omarova D.A. Plan of Griboedov's comedy // A. S. Griboyedov. Creation. Biography. Traditions. L., 1977. P.46-51.
Remarks in the texts of Lukin’s comedies note, as a rule, the address of speech (“brother”, “princess”, “worker”, “Scrupulous”, “nephew”, “aside”, etc.), its emotional intensity (“angry”, “with annoyance”, “with humiliation”, “crying”) and the movements of the characters around the stage with the registration of a gesture (“pointing at Zloradov”, “kissing her hands”, “falling to his knees”, “makes different body movements and expresses his extreme confusion and frustration").
As O. M. Freidenberg noted, a person in tragedy is passive; if he is active, then his activity is a fault and a mistake, leading him to disaster; in comedy he must be active, and if he is still passive, another one tries for him (the servant is his double). - Freidenberg O. M. The origin of literary intrigue // Proceedings on sign systems VI. Tartu, 1973. (308) P.510-511. Wed. in Roland Barthes: the sphere of language is “the only sphere to which tragedy belongs: in tragedy one never dies, for one speaks all the time. And vice versa - leaving the stage for the hero is somehow equivalent to death.<...>For in that purely linguistic world which is tragedy, action appears as the extreme embodiment of impurity.” - Bart Roland. Rasinovsky man. // Bart Roland. Selected works. M., 1989. P. 149,151.
Wed. from Kantemir: “And poems that put laughter on the lips of readers // Often the cause of tears for the publisher” (Satire IV. To one’s muse. On the danger of satirical writings - 110).
Batyushkov K. N. Something about the poet and poetry // Batyushkov K. N. Experiments in poetry and prose. M., 1977. P.22.

Vladimir Ignatievich Lukin(1737–1794) was an official of the times of Catherine II (secretary under the cabinet minister I.P. Elagin) and a writer. He loved the theater, translated and remade, as was customary in that era, the works of other authors, primarily French comedies. Lukin together with D.I. Fonvizin, B.E. Elchaninov and other young playwrights developed the idea of ​​the need for a national theater. In 1765, Lukin published his plays - “The Sprawler, Corrected by Love”, “The Scrupulous Man”, “Idle Man”, etc., accompanying the publication with prefaces and comments.

Appearance “Preface to the comedy “Mot, Corrected by Love”” Lukin explained the need to clarify the goals of the comedian’s works, which, in his opinion, are connected with the requirement “to seek ridicule of vices and one’s own in virtue for the pleasure and benefit of my fellow citizens, giving them an innocent and funny pastime.” The horizons of expectation of the Russian public (“compatriots”, “odnozemtsev”) should be determined, according to Lukin, by the desire to see “a person gifted with graceful qualities, extensive imagination, important study, the gift of eloquence and fluent style” (128).

Lukin was also convinced that the theme of comedy should be relevant, socially topical and topical. This is, in particular, the theme of “shameful extravagance”, from which “they come to poverty, from poverty to extremes, and from extremes to reprehensible deeds” (129). In support of his words, Lukin, using artistic and journalistic means, painted, sparing no colors, a picture of the social and state misfortune when spendthrifts lose entire fortunes in a card game: “Some are like the pallor of the faces of the dead, rising from their graves; others with bloody eyes - to the terrible furies; others, through despondency of spirit, to criminals about to be executed; others with an extraordinary blush - cranberries; and from others sweat flows in streams, as if they were carrying out a very difficult and useful task with haste” (130-131). The picture is reinforced by some statistical information: such spendthrifts, Lukin wrote, “I have seen more than a hundred people,” “they will be like this<…>a whole hundred."

The author’s note to this picture (in particular, regarding the comparison of the color of the players’ faces with the color of cranberries, and not some other “non-Russian” berry) states: “Everything must be Russian in Russian” (130). This is Lukin's policy statement. In the “Preface” he will develop this idea step by step. Thus, ironically, Lukin likened the described paintings to mythological scenes and heroes. However, he noted that “it’s more convenient to do<…>Russian example, because mythology<мифологию>Few of us still know.” In other words, in all types of literary work, according to Lukin, it was necessary to focus on the Russian viewer and reader, on their culture and psychological characteristics, and demonstrate Russian realities.

Indicating that "Mr. de Touches with his “Mot”” he gave an example of “a noble comedy of excellent composition” and that “this great author in his comedies is worthy of imitation” (132), Lukin emphasized that in his own way (based on Russian facts and phenomena) he created the main character Dobroserdov, and his servant Vasily; and “I tried in every possible way to make the others in the comedy of my face,” he wrote, “Russian” (134).

Lukin’s first argument in affirming this position was the proposition that “all people can think” - regardless of the class to which they belong. This great humanistic thought is consistently developed by the author of the comedy and the “preface” to it. Thus, the judgment that “in all translated comedies the servants are great slackers,” and what is required is “to teach zeal for one’s masters and actions that are appropriate for every honest person” is only the first and obvious one. The main thing is different: “De Tushev’s servant Mota is free, and Vasily is a serf” (134). This also implies a difference in the development of character, since the motivation for the actions of a French servant and a Russian servant is fundamentally different. Lukin proclaimed: “freedom is a precious thing” (134), and the values ​​of freedom and human dignity are perceived by the French servant and Russian Vasily due to the conditions of their own lives.

Despite the functional commonality in the context of the works, the images of evil geniuses in the French comedy and in Lukin’s play also differ from each other: “De Tushev’s false friend Mota is very dissimilar from my Zloradov.” Female images that are close in systemic and functional terms are also different in their development. Thus, Lukin wrote: “in the princess<в русской пьесе>No one can find a resemblance to any female face in de Tusheva’s comedy” (135).

Lukin’s other works are also imbued with the same idea about the need to reflect Russian identity on stage. Thus, the playwright accompanied the comedy “The Shrewd Man” with two original critical materials - "Letter to Mr. Elchaninov" co-author of a number of his works and a like-minded person, and the “Preface”, placed in the collected works after the “Letter” (1768). Addressing Elchaninov in the first of them, Lukin wrote: “I think that you have not forgotten your request, with which you often convinced me to change the Boutique de Bijoutier to our morals.” The original name is “Aglinskaya”<английская>satire,” which Elchaninov recommended “for conversion into a comic work” (141).

Lukin considered the wish of his like-minded person reasonable, since he dreamed of a “national theater.” In one of the notes to the “Letter” he gives “information” for “every person who loves public benefit”: “From the second day of Holy Easter this theater opened; it was made on a vacant lot behind Malaya Morskaya. Our lowly people showed such a great greed for it that, leaving their other amusements, some of which are not very funny in action, they gathered daily for this spectacle. Hunters, gathered from different places, play here<…>. This folk amusement can produce among us not only spectators, but also, over time, scribes<писателей>, which, although at first they will be unsuccessful, will eventually improve” (141). The note ends with the statement: “this exercise is very useful for the people and therefore worthy of great praise.”

For such a “national theater,” according to Lukin, one should write. At the same time, what is needed on the Russian stage is not a “bijouterier” (the word “Bijoutier” is not adopted by the Russian language), and not even a “haberdasher” (“that would mean writing someone else’s word in our letters,” although it has come into use among St. Petersburg and Muscovites, 146 ), but “scrupulous” (as dealers in cosmetics and haberdashery goods were called in Rus'), since the nomination leads to its subject or phenomenon - in this case, the character of the Russian commoner. In the play “The Scrupuler,” the author pointed out, “everything is tilted towards our morals” - “both in content and in caustic satire” (144). In this regard, Lukin was especially concerned about the speech of the characters. “The reason for this,” he wrote, “is that, having no villages, I lived little with the peasants and rarely spoke to them” (144).

Lukin's statements are imbued with educational ideas. In drama, a realistic social picture is important, when the circle of characters will inevitably, under the conditions of serfdom, include landowners who “do not think of peasants otherwise, as animals created for their voluptuousness,” and “from their gilded carriages, with six horses without need.” harnessed, the blood of innocent farmers flows"; “There are quite a few of these,” added Lukin (114).

It is the characters, Lukin pointed out in the “Preface” to the comedy, that are the center of the work, for in his play there is “not a love entanglement, below the beginning and the denouement” (149). In other words, it is not intrigue, which was the structure-forming principle of organizing a work in Western European drama, but the image of a person and his actions that are important for Lukin and, in his opinion, for the Russian theater. This last point should be considered as conceptually significant in the program of the Russian playwright and literary and theater critic.

The sharpness of Lukin’s literary intuition (far exceeding his modest creative capabilities) is emphasized by the fact that, as a source for his “propositions,” he in most cases chooses texts where a talkative, talkative or preaching character occupies a central place. This increased attention to the independent dramatic possibilities of the act of speaking in its plot, everyday writing or ideological functions is unconditional evidence that Lukin was characterized by a sense of the specifics of “our morals”: ​​Russian enlighteners, without exception, attached fateful meaning to the word as such.

Very symptomatic is the practical exhaustion of most of the characters in “Mota Corrected by Love” and “The Scrupulous Man” by the pure act of ideological or everyday speaking, not accompanied on stage by any other action. A word spoken out loud on stage absolutely coincides with its speaker; his role is subject to the general semantics of his word. Thus, the word seems to be embodied in the human figure of the heroes of Lukin’s comedies. Moreover, in the oppositions of vice and virtue, talkativeness is characteristic not only of protagonist characters, but also of antagonist characters. That is, the act of speaking itself appears to Lukin as variable in its moral characteristics, and talkativeness can be a property of both virtue and vice.

This fluctuation of a general quality, sometimes humiliating, sometimes elevating its bearers, is especially noticeable in the comedy “Mot, Corrected by Love”, where a pair of dramatic antagonists – Dobroserdov and Zloradov – equally share large monologues addressed to the audience. And these rhetorical declarations are based on the same supporting motives of a crime against a moral norm, repentance and remorse, but with a diametrically opposed moral meaning:

Dobroserdov. ‹…› Everything that an unhappy person can feel, I feel everything, but I suffer more than he does. He only has to endure the persecution of fate, and I have to endure repentance and gnawing conscience... From the time I separated from my parents, I constantly lived in vices. I deceived, dissembled, pretended ‹…›, and now I suffer worthily for it. ‹…› But I am very happy that I recognized Cleopatra. With her instructions I turned to virtue (30).

Zloradov. I’ll go and tell her [the princess] all his [Dobroserdov’s] intentions, make him extremely upset, and then, without wasting any time, reveal that I myself have fallen in love with her a long time ago. She, enraged, will despise him and prefer me. This will certainly come true. ‹…› Repentance and remorse are completely unknown to me, and I am not one of those simpletons who are horrified by the future life and the torments of hell (40).

The straightforwardness with which the characters declare their moral character from the first appearance on stage makes us see in Lukin a diligent student not only of Detouche, but also of the “father of Russian tragedy” Sumarokov. Combined with the complete absence of a laughter element in Mota, such straightforwardness prompts us to see in Lukin’s work not so much a “tearful comedy” as a “philistine tragedy.” After all, the psychological and conceptual verbal leitmotifs of the play are oriented precisely towards tragic poetics.

The emotional pattern of the action of the so-called “comedy” is determined by a completely tragic series of concepts: some characters in the comedy are tormented by despair and melancholy, they lament, repent and are restless; they are tormented and gnawing by their conscience, they consider their misfortune as retribution for guilt; their permanent state is tears and crying. Others feel pity and compassion for them, which serve as motivation for their actions. For the image of the main character Dobroserdov, such absolutely tragic verbal motifs as the motifs of death and fate are very relevant:

Stepanida. So is that why Dobroserdov is a completely lost man? (24); Dobroserdov. ‹…› must endure the persecution of fate ‹…› (30); Tell me, should I live or die? (31); Oh, fate! Reward me with such happiness ‹…› (33); Oh, merciless fate! (34); Oh, fate! I must thank you and complain about your severity (44); My heart is trembling and, of course, a new blow is foreshadowing. Oh, fate! Do not spare me and fight quickly! (45); A rather angry fate is driving me away. Oh, wrathful fate! (67); ‹…› it’s best, forgetting insult and revenge, to put an end to my frantic life. (68); Oh, fate! You have added this to my grief, so that he may be a witness to my shame (74).

And quite in the traditions of Russian tragedy, as this genre took shape in the 1750-1760s. under the pen of Sumarokov, the fatal clouds that have gathered over the head of a virtuous character fall with fair punishment on the vicious one:

Zloradov. Oh, bad fate! (78); Dobroserdov-lesser. May he receive a worthy retribution for his villainy (80).

This concentration of tragic motives in a text that has the genre definition of “comedy” is also reflected in the stage behavior of the characters, deprived of any physical action with the exception of the traditional falling to their knees and attempts to draw a sword (62-63, 66). But if Dobroserdov, as the main positive hero of a tragedy, even if it is a bourgeois one, by his very role is supposed to be passive, redeemed in dramatic action by speaking akin to tragic recitation, then Zloradov is an active person leading an intrigue against the central character. All the more noticeable against the backdrop of traditional ideas about the role is that Lukin prefers to endow his negative character not so much with action, but with informative speaking, which can anticipate, describe and summarize the action, but is not equivalent to the action itself.

Preferring words over action is not just a flaw in Lukin’s dramatic technique; it is also a reflection of the hierarchy of reality in the educational consciousness of the 18th century, and an orientation towards the artistic tradition already existing in Russian literature. Journalistic in its original message and seeking the eradication of vice and the inculcation of virtue, Lukin’s comedy, with its emphasized ethical and social pathos, resurrects the tradition of Russian syncretic preaching-the-word at a new stage of literary development. The artistic word, put in the service of intentions foreign to it, hardly by chance acquired in Lukin’s comedy and theory a shade of rhetoric and oratory - this is quite obvious in its direct appeal to the reader and viewer.

It is no coincidence that among the advantages of an ideal comedian, along with “graceful qualities,” “extensive imagination,” and “important study,” Lukin in the preface to “Motu” also names the “gift of eloquence,” and the style of individual fragments of this preface is clearly oriented toward the laws of oratory. This is especially noticeable in the examples of constant appeals to the reader, in enumeration and repetition, in numerous rhetorical questions and exclamations, and, finally, in the imitation of the written text of the preface under the spoken word, sounding speech:

Imagine, reader. ‹…› imagine a crowd of people, often more than a hundred people. ‹…› Some of them sit at the table, others walk around the room, but all of them construct punishments worthy of various inventions to beat their rivals. ‹…› These are the reasons for their meeting! And you, dear reader, having imagined this, tell me impartially, is there even a spark of good morals, conscience and humanity here? Of course not! But you will still hear! (8).

However, the most curious thing is that Lukin draws on the entire arsenal of expressive means of oratory in the most vivid morally descriptive fragment of the preface, in which he gives a unique genre picture from the life of card players: “Here is a living description of this community and the exercises that take place in it” (10) . And it is hardly by chance that in this seemingly bizarre alliance of high rhetorical and low everyday writing style traditions, Lukin’s favorite national idea reappears:

Others are like the pallor of the face of the dead ‹…›; others with bloody eyes - to the terrible furies; others through despondency of spirit - to criminals who are being drawn to execution; others with an extraordinary blush - cranberries ‹…› but no! It’s better to leave the Russian comparison too! (9).

Regarding the “cranberry”, which really looks like a certain stylistic dissonance next to the dead, furies and criminals, Lukin makes the following note: “This comparison will seem strange to some readers, but not to all. There must be nothing Russian in Russian, and here, it seems, my pen made no mistake ‹…›” (9).

So again, Sumarokov’s theoretical antagonist Lukin actually draws closer to his literary opponent in practical attempts to express the national idea in the dialogue of older Russian aesthetic traditions and attitudes of satirical everyday life writing and oratory. And if Sumarokov in “The Guardian” (1764-1765) for the first time tried to stylistically differentiate the world of things and the world of ideas and bring them into conflict, then Lukin, parallel to him and simultaneously with him, begins to find out how the aesthetic arsenal of one literary series is suitable for recreating realities another. Oratorical speaking with the aim of recreating the material world image and everyday life, pursuing the high goals of moral teaching and edification - this is the result of such a crossing of traditions. And if in “Mota” Lukin mainly uses oratorical speech in order to create a reliable everyday flavor of the action, then in “The Scrupuler” we see the opposite combination: everyday descriptive plasticity is used for rhetorical purposes.

Remarks in the texts of Lukin’s comedies note, as a rule, the address of speech (“brother”, “princess”, “worker”, “Scrupulous”, “nephew”, “aside”, etc.), its emotional intensity (“angry”, “with annoyance”, “with humiliation”, “crying”) and the movements of the characters around the stage with the registration of a gesture (“pointing at Zloradov”, “kissing her hands”, “falling to his knees”, “makes different body movements and expresses his extreme confusion and frustration").

As O. M. Freidenberg noted, a person in tragedy is passive; if he is active, then his activity is a fault and a mistake, leading him to disaster; in comedy he must be active, and if he is still passive, another one tries for him (the servant is his double). - Freidenberg O. M. The origin of literary intrigue // Proceedings on sign systems VI. Tartu, 1973. (308) P.510-511.
Wed. in Roland Barthes: the sphere of language is “the only sphere to which tragedy belongs: in tragedy one never dies, for one speaks all the time. And vice versa - leaving the stage for the hero is somehow equivalent to death.<...>For in that purely linguistic world which is tragedy, action appears as the extreme embodiment of impurity.” - Bart Roland. Rasinovsky man. // Bart Roland. Selected works. M., 1989. P. 149,151.

This fluctuation of a general quality, sometimes humiliating, sometimes elevating its bearers, is especially noticeable in the comedy “Mot, Corrected by Love”, where a pair of dramatic antagonists – Dobroserdov and Zloradov – equally share large monologues addressed to the audience. And these rhetorical declarations are based on the same supporting motives of a crime against a moral norm, repentance and remorse, but with a diametrically opposed moral meaning:

Dobroserdov. ‹…› Everything that an unhappy person can feel, I feel everything, but I suffer more than he does. He only has to endure the persecution of fate, and I have to endure repentance and gnawing conscience... From the time I separated from my parents, I constantly lived in vices. I deceived, dissembled, pretended ‹…›, and now I suffer worthily for it. ‹…› But I am very happy that I recognized Cleopatra. With her instructions I turned to virtue (30).

Zloradov. I’ll go and tell her [the princess] all his [Dobroserdov’s] intentions, make him extremely upset, and then, without wasting any time, reveal that I myself have fallen in love with her a long time ago. She, enraged, will despise him and prefer me. This will certainly come true. ‹…› Repentance and remorse are completely unknown to me, and I am not one of those simpletons who are horrified by the future life and the torments of hell (40).

The straightforwardness with which the characters declare their moral character from their first appearance on stage makes us see in Lukin a diligent student not only of Detouche, but also of the “father of Russian tragedy” Sumarokov. Combined with the complete absence of a laughter element in Mota, such straightforwardness prompts us to see in Lukin’s work not so much a “tearful comedy” as a “philistine tragedy.” After all, the psychological and conceptual verbal leitmotifs of the play are oriented precisely towards tragic poetics.

The emotional picture of the action of the so-called “comedy” is determined by a completely tragic series of concepts: some characters of the comedy are tormented by despair And melancholy, lament, repent And are restless; their torments And conscience gnaws yours misfortune they revere retribution for guilt; their permanent state is tears And cry. Others feel for them a pity And compassion, serving as incentives for their actions. For the image of the main character Dobroserdov, such absolutely tragic verbal motifs as the motifs of death and fate are very relevant:

Stepanida. So is that why Dobroserdov is a completely lost man? (24); Dobroserdov. ‹…› must endure the persecution of fate ‹…› (30); Tell me, should I live or die? (31); Oh, fate! Reward me with such happiness ‹…› (33); Oh, merciless fate! (34); Oh, fate! I must thank you and complain about your severity (44); My heart is trembling and, of course, a new blow is foreshadowing. Oh, fate! Do not spare me and fight quickly! (45); A rather angry fate is driving me away. Oh, wrathful fate! (67); ‹…› it’s best, forgetting insult and revenge, to put an end to my frantic life. (68); Oh, fate! You have added this to my grief, so that he may be a witness to my shame (74).

And quite in the traditions of Russian tragedy, as this genre took shape in the 1750-1760s. under the pen of Sumarokov, the fatal clouds that have gathered over the head of a virtuous character fall with fair punishment on the vicious one:

Zloradov. Oh, bad fate! (78); Dobroserdov-lesser. May he receive a worthy retribution for his villainy (80).

This concentration of tragic motives in a text that has the genre definition of “comedy” is also reflected in the stage behavior of the characters, who are deprived of any physical action except for the traditional kneeling and attempts to draw a sword (62-63, 66). But if Dobroserdov, as the main positive hero of a tragedy, even if it is a bourgeois one, by his very role is supposed to be passive, redeemed in dramatic action by speaking akin to tragic recitation, then Zloradov is an active person leading an intrigue against the central character. All the more noticeable against the backdrop of traditional ideas about the role is that Lukin prefers to endow his negative character not so much with action, but with informative speaking, which can anticipate, describe and summarize the action, but is not equivalent to the action itself.

Preferring words over action is not just a flaw in Lukin’s dramatic technique; it is also a reflection of the hierarchy of reality in the educational consciousness of the 18th century, and an orientation towards the artistic tradition already existing in Russian literature. Journalistic in its original message and seeking the eradication of vice and the inculcation of virtue, Lukin’s comedy, with its emphasized ethical and social pathos, resurrects the tradition of Russian syncretic preaching-the-word at a new stage of literary development. The artistic word, put in the service of intentions foreign to it, hardly by chance acquired in Lukin’s comedy and theory a shade of rhetoric and oratory - this is quite obvious in its direct appeal to the reader and viewer.

It is no coincidence that among the advantages of an ideal comedian, along with “graceful qualities,” “extensive imagination,” and “important study,” Lukin in the preface to “Motu” also names the “gift of eloquence,” and the style of individual fragments of this preface is clearly focused on the laws of oratory. This is especially noticeable in the examples of constant appeals to the reader, in enumeration and repetition, in numerous rhetorical questions and exclamations, and, finally, in the imitation of the written text of the preface under the spoken word, sounding speech:

Imagine, reader. ‹…› imagine a crowd of people, often more than a hundred people. ‹…› Some of them sit at the table, others walk around the room, but all of them construct punishments worthy of various inventions to beat their rivals. ‹…› These are the reasons for their meeting! And you, dear reader, having imagined this, tell me impartially, is there even a spark of good morals, conscience and humanity here? Of course not! But you will still hear! (8).

However, the most curious thing is that Lukin draws on the entire arsenal of expressive means of oratory in the most vivid morally descriptive fragment of the preface, in which he gives a unique genre picture from the life of card players: “Here is a living description of this community and the exercises that take place in it” (10) . And it is hardly by chance that in this seemingly bizarre alliance of high rhetorical and low everyday writing style traditions, Lukin’s favorite national idea reappears:

Others are like the pallor of the face of the dead ‹…›; others with bloody eyes - to the terrible furies; others through despondency of spirit - to criminals who are being drawn to execution; others with an extraordinary blush - cranberries ‹…› but no! It’s better to leave the Russian comparison too! (9).

Regarding the “cranberry”, which really looks like a certain stylistic dissonance next to the dead, furies and criminals, Lukin makes the following note: “This likening will seem strange to some readers, but not to all. , my pen has made no mistake ‹…›" (9).

So again, Sumarokov’s theoretical antagonist Lukin actually draws closer to his literary opponent in practical attempts to express the national idea in the dialogue of older Russian aesthetic traditions and attitudes of satirical everyday life writing and oratory. And if Sumarokov in “The Guardian” (1764-1765) for the first time tried to stylistically differentiate the world of things and the world of ideas and bring them into conflict, then Lukin, parallel to him and simultaneously with him, begins to find out how the aesthetic arsenal of one literary series is suitable for recreating realities another. Oratorical speaking with the aim of recreating the material world image and everyday life, pursuing the high goals of moral teaching and edification - this is the result of such a crossing of traditions. And if in “Mota” Lukin mainly uses oratorical speech in order to create a reliable everyday flavor of the action, then in “The Scrupuler” we see the opposite combination: everyday descriptive plasticity is used for rhetorical purposes.

Poetics of the comedy "The Scrubber": synthesis of odo-satirical genre formants

Lukin “inflected the comedy “The Scrupulous Man” into Russian morals” from the English original, Dodeli’s morally descriptive comedy “The Toy-shop,” which already in Lukin’s time was translated into French under the name “Boutique de Bijoutier” (“Haberdashery Shop”). It is very noteworthy that Lukin himself, in his “Letter to Mr. Elchaninov,” persistently calls both his original and its version “inclined to Russian morals” as “satires”:

‹…› I began to get ready to turn this Aglin satire into a comic work ‹…›. (184). ‹…› I noticed that this satire was quite well remade for our theater (186). It [Dodeli's text], transformed into a comic composition, both in content and in caustic satire, can be called quite good ‹…› (186). ‹…› I received the opportunity to deliver this satirical essay into Russian (188).

Vladimir Ignatievich Lukin

“Mot, corrected by love”

The comedy is preceded by a lengthy preface by the author, which states that most writers take up the pen for three reasons. The first is the desire to become famous; the second - to get rich; the third is the satisfaction of one’s own base feelings, such as envy and the desire to take revenge on someone. Lukin strives to benefit his compatriots and hopes that the reader will treat his work with condescension. He also expresses gratitude to the actors involved in his play, believing that they all have the right to share the praise along with the author.

The action takes place in the Moscow house of a dowager princess who is in love with one of the Dobroserdov brothers. The servant Vasily, waiting for his master to awaken, talks to himself about the vicissitudes of his young master's fate. The son of a decent man has completely squandered himself and lives in fear of prison punishment. Dokukin appears, who would like to receive a long-standing debt from the owner Vasily. Vasily is trying to get rid of Dokukin under the pretext that his owner is about to receive the money and will soon return everything in full. Dokukin is afraid of being deceived and not only does not leave, but follows Vasily into the master’s bedroom, who was awakened by loud voices. Seeing Dokukin, Dobroserdov consoles him by informing him of his marriage to the local hostess, and asks him to wait a little, since the princess promised to give him a sum of money for the wedding that would be enough to repay the debt. Dobroserdov goes to the princess, but Dokukin and Vasily remain. The servant explains to the creditor that no one should see him in the princess’s house - otherwise Dobroserdov’s debts and ruin will become known. The lender (creditor) leaves, muttering to himself that he will make inquiries with Zloradov.

The maid Stepanida, who appears with the princess' half, manages to notice Dokukin and asks Vasily about him. The servant tells Stepanida in detail about the circumstances due to which his master Dobroserdov found himself in distress. At the age of fourteen, his father sent him to St. Petersburg in the care of his brother, a frivolous man. The young man neglected the sciences and indulged in entertainment, making friends with Zloradov, with whom he settled together after his uncle died. Within a month, he was completely bankrupt, and within four, he owed thirty thousand to various merchants, including Dokukin. Zloradov not only helped squander the estate and borrowed money, but also caused Dobroserdov to quarrel with another uncle. The latter decided to leave an inheritance to Dobroserdov’s younger brother, with whom he went to the village.

There is only one way to beg for his uncle's forgiveness - by marrying a prudent and virtuous girl, which Dobroserdov considers Cleopatra, the princess's niece. Vasily asks Stepanida to persuade Cleopatra to run away with Dobroserdov in secret. The maid does not believe that the well-behaved Cleopatra will agree, but she would like to rid her mistress of her aunt-princess, who spends her niece’s money on her whims and outfits. Dobroserdov appears and also asks Stepanida for help. The maid leaves, and the princess appears, not hiding her attention to the young man. She invites him to her room so that in his presence she can get dressed for the upcoming exit. Not without difficulty, Dobroserdov, embarrassed by the need to deceive the princess who is in love with him, appears to be so busy that he happily avoids the need to be present at the princess’s dressing, much less accompany her on a visit. Delighted, Dobroserdov sends Vasily to Zloradov, his true friend, to open up to him and lend him money to escape. Vasily believes that Zloradov is not capable of good deeds, but he fails to dissuade Dobroserdov.

Dobroserdov finds no place for himself while waiting for Stepanida and curses himself for the recklessness of previous days - disobedience and extravagance. Stepanida appears and reports that she did not have time to explain to Cleopatra. She advises Dobroserdov to write a letter to the girl telling her about her feelings. The delighted Dobroserdov leaves, and Stepanida reflects on the reasons for her participation in the fate of the lovers and comes to the conclusion that it is about her love for Vasily, whose kindness is more important to her than the unsightly appearance of his middle age.

The princess appears and attacks Stepanida with abuse. The maid justifies herself by saying that she wanted to serve her mistress and came to find out something about Dobroserdov. The young man, emerging from his room, does not notice the princess at first, but when he sees her, he quietly thrusts the letter to the maid. Both women leave, but Dobroserdov remains waiting for Vasily.

Stepanida unexpectedly returns with sad news. It turns out that the princess went to visit her daughter-in-law in order to sign documents for Cleopatra’s dowry. She wants to marry her to the rich breeder Srebrolyubov, who undertakes not only not to demand the required dowry, but also gives the princess a stone house and ten thousand in addition. The young man is indignant, and the maid promises him her help.

Vasily returns and talks about the vile act of Zloradov, who encouraged Dokukin (the creditor) to immediately collect the debt from Dobroserdov, since the debtor intends to flee the city. Dobroserdov does not believe, although some doubt settles in his soul. Therefore, at first it’s cold, and then, with the same simplicity, he tells Zloradov, who has appeared, about everything that happened. Zloradov feignedly promises to help get the required three hundred rubles from the princess, realizing to himself that Cleopatra’s wedding with the merchant will be very profitable for him. To do this, you should write a letter to the princess asking for a loan to pay off the gambling debt and take it to the house where the princess is staying. Dobroserdov agrees and, forgetting Stepanida’s warnings not to leave the room, leaves to write a letter. Vasily is indignant at his master’s gullibility.

The newly appeared Stepanida informs Dobroserdov that Cleopatra read the letter, and although it cannot be said that she decided to run away, she does not hide her love for the young man. Unexpectedly, Panfil appears, the servant of Dobroserdov’s younger brother, sent secretly with a letter. It turns out that the uncle was ready to forgive Dobroserdov, since he learned from his younger brother about his intention to marry a virtuous girl. But the neighbors hastened to report the dissipation of the young man, who was allegedly squandering Cleopatra’s estate together with her guardian, the princess. The uncle was furious, and there is only one way: to immediately come to the village with the girl and explain the true state of affairs.

Dobroserdov, in desperation, tries to delay the magistrate’s decision with the help of the lawyer Prolazin. But none of the solicitor’s methods suits him, since he does not agree to renounce his signature on the bills, nor to give bribes, much less to solder creditors and steal bills, blaming his servant for this. Having learned about Dobroserdov’s departure, creditors appear one after another and demand repayment of the debt. Only Pravdolyubov, who also has bills from the ill-fated Dobroserdov, is ready to wait until better times.

Zloradov arrives, pleased with how he managed to fool the princess around his finger. Now, if it is possible to arrange the sudden appearance of the princess during Dobroserdov’s date with Cleopatra, the girl will face a monastery, her lover will face prison, and all the money will go to Zloradov. Dobroserdov appears and, having received money from Zloradov, again recklessly dedicates him to all the details of his conversation with Cleopatra. Zloradov leaves. Cleopatra appears with her maid. During a passionate explanation, the princess appears, accompanied by Zloradov. Only Stepanida was not at a loss, but the young man and his servant were amazed by her speech. Rushing to the princess, the maid reveals Dobroserdov’s plan for the immediate escape of her niece and asks the princess’s permission to take the girl to the monastery, where their relative serves as abbess. The enraged princess entrusts her ungrateful niece to a maid, and they leave. Dobroserdov tries to follow them, but the princess stops him and showers him with reproaches of black ingratitude. The young man tries to find support from his imaginary friend Zloradov, but he reveals his true face, accusing the young man of dissipation. The princess demands from Dobroserdov respect for her future husband. Zloradov and the overripe coquette leave, and Dobroserdov rushes with belated regrets to his servant.

A poor widow appears with her daughter and reminds the young man of the debt that she has been waiting for for a year and a half. Dobroserdov, without hesitation, gives the widow three hundred rubles brought from the princess by Zloradov. After the widow leaves, he asks Vasily to sell all his clothes and linen in order to pay the widow. He offers Vasily freedom. Vasily refuses, explaining that he will not leave the young man in such a difficult time, especially since he has moved away from a dissolute life. Meanwhile, lenders and clerks invited by Zloradov gather near the house.

Suddenly Dobroserdov’s younger brother appears. The older brother becomes even more desperate because the younger brother has witnessed his shame. But things take an unexpected turn. It turns out that their uncle died and left his estate to his elder brother, forgiving all his sins. The younger Dobroserdov is ready to immediately pay debts to creditors and pay for the work of clerks from the magistrate. One thing upsets Dobroserdov Sr. - the absence of his beloved Cleopatra. But she's here. It turns out that Stepanida deceived the princess and took the girl not to the monastery, but to the village to her lover’s uncle. On the way they met their younger brother and told him everything. Zloradov tried to get out of the current situation, but, failing, he began to threaten Dobroserdov. However, creditors who have lost future interest from the debtor who has become rich present Zloradov’s bills of exchange to the clerks. The princess repents of her actions. Stepanida and Vasily receive their freedom, but intend to continue serving their masters. Vasily also makes a speech about how all girls should be like Cleopatra in good behavior, “outdated coquettes” would give up affectation, like the princess, and “God does not leave villainy without punishment.”

The comedy begins with a very strange prologue. It gives three reasons why writers get creative. These include: the thirst for fame, money, and the third reason is the desire to satisfy base needs. The author himself wants to benefit the reader and thanks the actors playing in his play. One Moscow princess is in love with one of the Dobroserdov brothers. His servant reflects on the life of his master, who lives in fear of prison.

Dokukin comes to collect his debt. Dobroserdov assures that by marrying the princess, he will repay the entire debt. Vasily convinces Dokukin not to tell anyone about the owner’s plight. The princess's maid noticed the leaving guest and asked Vasily about him. He tells her everything. Having accumulated debts, Dobroserdov quarreled with his uncle, and reconciliation is possible only on the condition that he marries a decent girl, such as Cleopatra, the princess’s niece. Vasily convinces the maid that Dobroserdov should flee with Cleopatra. Dobroserdov also asks Stepanid to help. Vasily goes to Zloradov to borrow money from him to escape.

Stepanida offers to write a letter about her feelings to Cleopatra. Dobroserdov leaves, and the maid comes to the conclusion that she herself is in love with Vasily. The princess scolds the maid, but she makes excuses. Dobroserdov appeared unnoticed and handed the letter to Stepanida. Later, she appears with bad news: her aunt wants to marry Cleopatra to the breeder Srebrolyubov. Vasily, who returned, tells how Zloradov himself persuaded Dokukin to demand the debt, telling him that he wanted to leave the city. Not believing this, Dobroserdov himself talks to Zloradov and he allegedly promises to give three hundred rubles. Stepanida tells Dobroserdov that Cleopatra finally read the letter, and it turned out that their feelings are mutual.

Panfil, the servant of the second brother Dobroserdov, brings another letter. The uncle is ready to forgive him, but the neighbors slandered the young man, and the uncle demands an immediate arrival with the girl for an explanation. Having learned about his imminent departure, creditors began to visit Dobronravov often. Zloradov wants to frame Dobroserdov in front of the princess and take all the money for himself. Cleopatra arrives with a maid and an explanation takes place. At this moment the princess appears. The maid, not at a loss, lays out all the plans of the lovers and offers to take the girl to the monastery. Zloradov reveals his true face to Dobrserdov.

The solution was found unexpectedly. The brothers' uncle died and left all his savings to his elder brother. Another good news: Stepanida hid Cleopatra with her uncle in the village. The princess repented, and Stepanida and Vasily are free.