What a beauty this Natasha is. A fairy tale with a good ending

The author about his heroine “Natasha got married in the early spring of 1813, and in 1820 she already had three daughters and one son, whom she passionately desired and now fed herself. She became plump and wider, so that it was difficult to recognize in this strong mother the former thin, active Natasha. Her facial features were defined and had an expression of calm softness and clarity. In her face there was not, as before, this incessantly burning fire of revival that made up her charm ...,” Tolstoy writes about his heroine at the time when she became a mother.

Meeting Natasha during the name day (vol. 1, part 1, chapter). Compare the portraits of Natasha, Sonya and Vera. Why does the author emphasize in one “ugly, but lively”, in another “thin, miniature brunette”, in the third “cold and calm”. Natasha’s behavior during Nikolai’s return (vol. 2, part 1, chapter 1).

The episode with Anatole and the breakup with Andrey. Compare Natasha’s behavior in the theater with Helen’s behavior at the evening at A.P. Scherer’s (vol. 2, part 5, chapter). How does Natasha change under the influence of Helen?

Condition during the War of 1812. What qualities of Natasha are revealed in the scene of handing over the cart to the wounded (vol. 3, part 3, chapter 16)? Why does Tolstoy connect Natasha and the wounded Andrei (vol. 3, part 3, chapter 3132)? What spiritual power is contained in Natasha, who helps her mother after Petya’s death (vol. 4, part 4, chapter 2)? Conclusion Natasha, like other beloved heroes, goes through a difficult path of quest: from a joyful, enthusiastic perception of life, through the apparent happiness of her engagement to Andrei, through the mistakes of life, betrayal of Andrei and Anatole, through a spiritual crisis and disappointment in oneself, through rebirth under the influence of necessity helping loved ones (mothers), through high love to the wounded Prince Andrei to comprehend the meaning of life in a family in the role of wife and mother. Natasha, like other beloved heroes, goes through a difficult path of quest: from a joyful, enthusiastic perception of life, through the apparent happiness of her engagement to Andrei, through the mistakes of life, betrayal of Andrei and Anatole, through a spiritual crisis and disappointment in oneself, through revival under the influence of the need for help loved ones (mother), through high love for the wounded Prince Andrei to comprehend the meaning of life in the family in the role of wife and mother.

L. Tolstoy’s epic novel “War and Peace” was created in the 1860s, when modern society there were disputes not only about further paths development of Russia, but also about the role of women in family and social life.
Important role play in the novel female images, which, like the images of other heroes, are divided into static and developing.
In Tolstoy’s novel “War and Peace,” one of the main characters is Natasha Rostova. In it, the author embodied, in his opinion, the ideal of a woman-mother. The author depicts Natasha as she develops; he traces her life over a long period of time. Over the years, the heroine’s feelings and worldview change.
For the first time in the novel she appears as a thirteen-year-old girl, “black-eyed, with big mouth, ugly, but alive.” Emphasizing the external unattractiveness of his heroine, Tolstoy argues that the beauty of the soul and inner potential are much more important; giftedness, ability to understand, sensitivity, subtle intuition. Natasha's simplicity, naturalness and spirituality overcome intelligence and good manners.
Tolstoy contrasts the lively, energetic, always unexpected Natasha with the cold Helen, secular woman living according to established rules, never committing rash acts. Helen, unlike Natasha, would never allow herself, in front of Marya Dmitrievna, whom everyone is afraid of, to ask across the table what kind of cake would be for dinner today.
Helen is a product of a society in which Natasha appears only once. She is not spoiled by his conventions and prejudices and lives only according to the laws that her heart dictates, maintaining cheerfulness, naturalness and spontaneity.
With age, Natasha develops a desire to be the center of attention and to arouse everyone's admiration. Natasha loves herself and believes that everyone should love her too; Although the heroine is characterized by selfishness, this selfishness is still sincerely childish, characteristic of an unformed personality. She likes to think about herself in the third person and remarks about herself: “What a charm this Natasha is!” And everyone really admires her, loves her. Natasha determines social behavior with one impression and makes her see things in a new way.
Natasha belongs to those characters who live “with the mind of the heart.” It’s difficult to judge the heroine’s intelligence. Pierre says that Natasha “doesn’t deign to be smart.” Its purpose is different: it influences moral life other heroes, renewing and reviving them to life. Allowing with every action difficult questions, Natasha herself personifies the answer to the question that Andrei Bolkonsky and Pierre Vezukhov have been searching for so long and painfully. The heroine herself has no inclination to evaluate and analyze actions and phenomena. In this sense, she has her own, direct knowledge of the values of life.
Many episodes of the novel talk about how Natasha inspires people, makes them better, kinder, and gives them back their love for life. For example, when Nikolai Rostov loses to Dolokhov at cards and returns home irritated, not feeling the joy of life, he hears Natasha singing and with this pacifying voice forgets his failure. At the same moment, Nikolai feels that life itself is beautiful and that everything else is trifles, not worth attention. IN this moment the hero thinks: “All this: misfortune, and money, and Dolokhov, and anger, and honor - all nonsense, but here it is - the real thing.”
Tolstoy's heroine is characterized by compassion. Natasha understands very well and feels sorry for Denisov, who proposed to her. When Sonya cried, Natasha, not knowing the reason for her tears, “opened her big mouth and became completely bad, roared like a child... and only because Sonya was crying.” Tolstoy endows his heroine with rare spiritual qualities: sensitivity and intuition.
Natasha was originally born Russian national character. In the scene after the hunt, she listens with pleasure to the playing and singing of her uncle, who “sang as the people sing,” and then dances “The Lady.” Everyone around her is amazed at her ability to understand everything that was in every Russian person. “Where, how, when did this countess, raised by a French emigrant, suck into herself from this Russian air that she breathed, this spirit, where did she get these techniques that should have been supplanted long ago!”
The writer notes the poetry of his heroine. While in Otradnoye, Natasha contemplates the starry sky, sincerely admiring the night landscape: “After all, such a lovely night has never happened,” she says. This shows the heroine’s closeness to nature.
Self-sacrifice is also characteristic of the heroine. Without thinking, she gives all the carts to the wounded, leaving things behind, and does not imagine that she could do anything differently in this situation.
The essence of Natasha's nature is love. This feeling is inseparable from the heroine. Sincere feeling visits her for the first time when meeting Prince Andrei. Andrei Bolkonsky becomes relaxed and natural next to Natasha, and he could remain himself only with very few people: “Prince Andrei loved to meet in the world that which did not have a common secular imprint on it. And that was Natasha.”
However, Natasha Rostova and Andrei Bolkonsky - different people. He lives by reason, she lives by heart, instinct, and is therefore alien intellectual world Prince Andrey. The fact that Natasha is attracted to Anatoly Kuragin, who is opposed to Prince Andrei with the fullness of life, reveals Natasha’s naturalness, her closeness to natural principles. After all, it was the thirst for life in Anatol that attracted her so much. She fulfills the natural purpose of a woman (the desire for love); the rest, according to the writer, is superficial and unimportant. All her tossing, ultimately, has the goal of creating a family and having children.
After a mental crisis, Natasha is again visited by a joyful and new feeling. It brings her back to life. Pierre also played an important role here, whose “childish soul” was so close to Natasha. He was the only one who brought joy to the Rostov house when she was tormented by remorse, suffered and hated herself for what happened. Pierre idolized Natasha, and she was grateful to him only for the fact that he existed and that he was her only consolation. Pierre, like Natasha, lives by feelings and emotions, which is why these heroes are so close to each other in their inner content.
In the epilogue, Natasha is no longer shown as that cheerful, naive girl. She is a loving and beloved wife, mother of four children. A former fashionista, the heroine is no longer interested in her appearance, since now it does not matter to her. She came as close as possible to answering the question of meaning. human existence. Fake secular society alien to Natasha; after marriage she practically ceases to be in society.
Only through love for Pierre and family does Natasha find peace of mind.
Having created the image of Natasha Rostova, Tolstoy made it clear that she would follow Pierre Bezukhov to Siberia and repeat the fate of the Decembrist wives.
So, in the image of Natasha Rostova, the idea was embodied that there is no beauty and happiness where there is no goodness, simplicity and truth. It is from her that the energy of renewal, liberation from everything false, false, and familiar comes. This heroine was Tolstoy’s ideal of life without torment and the search for a cold mind.

Tasks and tests on the topic “The image of Natasha Rostova in L. N. Tolstoy’s novel “War and Peace””

Basics of past tense verbs. Spelling the letter before the suffix -l - Verb as part of speech grade 4

To get married, the consent of the father was needed, and for this, the next day, Prince Andrei went to his father. The father, with outward calm but inner anger, accepted his son’s message. He could not understand that anyone would want to change life, to introduce something new into it, when life was already ending for him. “If only they would let me live the way I want, and then we would do what we wanted,” the old man said to himself. With his son, however, he used the diplomacy that he used on important occasions. Taking a calm tone, he discussed the whole matter: Firstly, the marriage was not brilliant in terms of kinship, wealth and nobility. Secondly, Prince Andrei was not in his first youth and was in poor health (the old man was especially careful about this), and she was very young. Thirdly, there was a son whom it was a pity to give to the girl. Fourthly, finally, the father said, looking mockingly at his son, “I beg you, put off the matter for a year, go abroad, get treatment, find, as you want, a German for Prince Nicholas, and then, if it’s love, passion , stubbornness, what you want is so great, then get married. And this is my last word, you know, my last...” the prince finished in a tone that showed that nothing would force him to change his decision. Prince Andrei clearly saw that the old man hoped that his or his feelings future bride will not stand the test of the year or that he himself, old prince, will die by this time, and decided to fulfill his father’s will: propose and postpone the wedding for a year. Three weeks after his last evening with the Rostovs, Prince Andrei returned to St. Petersburg. The next day, after her explanation with her mother, Natasha waited the whole day for Bolkonsky, but he did not come. The next, third day it was the same, Pierre also did not come, and Natasha, not knowing that Prince Andrei had gone to his father, could not explain his absence. Three weeks passed like this. Natasha did not want to go anywhere, and like a shadow, idle and sad, she walked from room to room, cried secretly from everyone in the evening and did not appear to her mother in the evenings. She was constantly blushing and irritated. It seemed to her that everyone knew about her disappointment, laughed and felt sorry for her. With all the strength of her inner grief, this vain grief intensified her misfortune. One day she came to the countess, wanted to tell her something, and suddenly began to cry. Her tears were the tears of an offended child who himself does not know why he is being punished. The Countess began to calm Natasha down. Natasha, who had been listening at first to her mother’s words, suddenly interrupted her: - Stop it, mom, I don’t think and don’t want to think! So, I traveled, and stopped, and stopped... Her voice trembled, she almost cried, but she recovered and calmly continued: “And I don’t want to get married at all.” And I'm afraid of him; I'm completely, completely calm now... The next day after this conversation, Natasha put on that old dress, which she was especially famous for the cheerfulness it brought in the morning, and in the morning she began her old way of life, from which she had fallen behind after the ball. After drinking tea, she went to the hall, which she especially loved for its strong resonance, and began to sing her solfeges (singing exercises). Having finished the first lesson, she stopped in the middle of the hall and repeated one musical phrase, which she especially liked. She listened joyfully to the (as if unexpected for her) charm with which these sounds, shimmering, filled the entire emptiness of the hall and slowly froze, and she suddenly felt cheerful. “It’s good to think about it too much,” she said to herself and began to walk up and down the hall, not stepping in simple steps on the ringing parquet floor, but at every step, shifting from heel (she was wearing new, favorite shoes) to toe, and just as joyfully as she listened to the sounds of her voice, listening to this measured clatter of the heel and the creaking of the sock. Passing by the mirror, she looked into it. "Here I am! — the expression on her face seemed to say when she saw herself. - Well, that’s good. And I don’t need anyone.” The footman wanted to enter to clean something in the hall, but she did not let him in, again, closing the door behind him, she continued her walk. This morning she returned again to her favorite state of self-love and admiration for herself. “What a charm this Natasha is! - she said again to herself in the words of some third, collective male face. “She’s good, she has a voice, she’s young, and she doesn’t bother anyone, just leave her alone.” But no matter how much they left her alone, she could no longer be calm and she immediately felt it. In the hallway the entrance door opened, someone asked: are you at home? - and someone’s steps were heard. Natasha looked in the mirror, but she did not see herself. She listened to sounds in the hall. When she saw herself, her face was pale. It was he. She knew this for sure, although she barely heard the sound of his voice from the closed doors. Natasha, pale and frightened, ran into the living room. - Mom, Bolkonsky has arrived! - she said. - Mom, this is terrible, this is unbearable! I don't want... to suffer! What should I do?.. Before the countess even had time to answer her, Prince Andrei entered the living room with an anxious and serious face. As soon as he saw Natasha, his face lit up. He kissed the hand of the countess and Natasha and sat down next to the sofa... “We haven’t had the pleasure for a long time...” the countess began, but Prince Andrei interrupted her, answering her question and, obviously, in a hurry to say what he needed. “I wasn’t with you all this time because I was with my father: I needed to talk to him about a very important matter.” “I just returned last night,” he said, looking at Natasha. “I need to talk to you, Countess,” he added after a minute’s silence. The Countess, sighing heavily, lowered her eyes. “I am at your service,” she said. Natasha knew that she had to leave, but she couldn’t do it: something was squeezing her! she has a throat, and she is discourteous, straight, with open eyes looked at Prince Andrei. "Now? This minute!.. No, this can’t be!” - she thought. He looked at her again, and this look convinced her that she was not mistaken. Yes, now, this very minute, her fate was being decided. “Come, Natasha, I’ll call you,” the countess said in a whisper. Natasha looked at Prince Andrei and her mother with frightened, pleading eyes and left. “I came, Countess, to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage,” said Prince Andrei. The countess's face flushed, but she said nothing. “Your proposal...” the countess began sedately. He was silent, looking into her eyes. - Your offer... (she was embarrassed) we are pleased, and... I accept your offer, I’m glad. And my husband... I hope... but it will depend on her... “I’ll tell her when I have your consent... will you give it to me?” - said Prince Andrei. “Yes,” said the countess and extended her hand to him and, with a mixed feeling of aloofness and tenderness, pressed her lips to his forehead as he leaned over her hand. She wanted to love him like a son; but she felt that he was a stranger and a terrible person for her. “I’m sure my husband will agree,” said the countess, “but your father... - My father, to whom I communicated my plans, made it an indispensable condition for consent that the wedding should not be before a year. And this is what I wanted to tell you,” said Prince Andrei. “It’s true that Natasha is still young, but it’s been so long!” “It couldn’t be otherwise,” said Prince Andrei with a sigh. “I will send it to you,” said the countess and left the room. “Lord, have mercy on us,” she repeated, looking for her daughter. Sonya said that Natasha is in the bedroom. Natasha sat on her bed, pale, with dry eyes, looked at the image and, quickly crossing herself, whispered something. Seeing her mother, she jumped up and rushed to her. - What? mom?.. What? - Go, go to him. “He asks for your hand,” the countess said coldly, as it seemed to Natasha... “Come... come,” the mother said with sadness and reproach after her running daughter and sighed heavily. Natasha did not remember how she entered the living room. Entering the door and seeing him, she stopped. “Has this stranger really become everything to me now?” - she asked herself and instantly answered: “Yes, that’s it: he alone is now dearer to me than everything in the world.” Prince Andrei approached her, lowering his eyes. “I loved you from the moment I saw you.” Can I hope? He looked at her, and the serious passion in her expression struck him. Her face said: “Why ask? Why doubt something you can’t help but know? Why talk when you can’t express in words what you feel.” She approached him and stopped. He took her hand and kissed it. - Do you love me? “Yes, yes,” Natasha said as if with annoyance, sighed loudly, and another time, more and more often, and began to sob. - About what? What's wrong with you? “Oh, I’m so happy,” she answered, smiled through her tears, leaned closer to him, thought for a second, as if asking herself if this was possible, and kissed him. Prince Andrei held her hand, looked into her eyes and did not find in his soul the same love for her. Something suddenly turned in his soul: there was no longer the former poetic and mysterious charm of desire, but there was pity for her feminine and childish weakness, there was fear of her devotion and gullibility, a heavy and at the same time joyful consciousness of the duty that forever connected him with her. The real feeling, although it was not as bright and poetic as before, was more serious and stronger. - Did maman tell you that this cannot be earlier than a year? - said Prince Andrei, continuing to look into her eyes. “Is it really me, that girl-child (everyone said that about me),” thought Natasha, “is it really from this moment that I am the wife, equal to this stranger, dear, smart person, respected even by my father? Is that really true? Is it really true that now it’s no longer possible to joke with life, now I’m big, now I’m responsible for my every deed and word? Yes, what did he ask me? “No,” she answered, but she did not understand what he was asking. “Forgive me,” said Prince Andrei, “but you are so young, and I already experienced so much of life. I'm scared for you. You don't know yourself. Natasha listened with concentrated attention, trying to understand the meaning of his words, but did not understand. “No matter how difficult this year will be for me, delaying my happiness,” continued Prince Andrei, “in this period you will believe in yourself.” I ask you to make my happiness happen in a year; but you are free: our engagement will remain a secret, and if you were convinced that you do not love me, or would love ... - said Prince Andrei with an unnatural smile. - Why are you saying this? - Natasha interrupted him. “You know that from the very day you first arrived in Otradnoye, I fell in love with you,” she said, firmly convinced that she was telling the truth. - In a year you will recognize yourself... - A whole year! - Natasha suddenly said, now only realizing that the wedding had been postponed for a year. - Why a year? Why a year?.. - Prince Andrei began to explain to her the reasons for this delay. Natasha didn't listen to him. - And it’s impossible otherwise? she asked. Prince Andrei did not answer, but expressed in his face the impossibility of changing this decision. - It's horrible! No, this is terrible, terrible! - Natasha suddenly spoke and began to sob again. “I’ll die waiting a year: this is impossible, this is terrible.” “She looked into the face of her fiancé and saw in him an expression of compassion and bewilderment. “No, no, I’ll do everything,” she said, suddenly stopping her tears, “I’m so happy!” The father and mother entered the room and blessed the bride and groom. From that day on, Prince Andrei began to go to the Rostovs as a groom.

(SUICIDE MANUAL)

Lenochka worked as a librarian. Who else?
What about the salary? How much does a highly spiritual person need?

She read books avidly for free and work time. This time.
She received the appropriate education. That's two.
She adored book lovers. That's three...
It goes without saying that her favorite class at school was literature.
Are there other items worthy of attention?
Well, not mathematics!
Or chemistry - ugh! I remembered and my nose tingled.

*Oh, what a charm this Natasha Rostova is! That's how I would spread my arms and fly!*

Helen dreamed of being like the heroines classical works.

She will stand in front of the mirror, take off her glasses, shake her mane of red hair, look at her high bust and slender waist appraisingly - why not a fatal homewrecker?
Trying on the role of a vamp woman. Cool!
Nothing is cool! Bullshit! Besides, low and mean!

Now, if you sob tearfully... then off the cliff... they bury you... everyone cries! This is really great!
Blessed-tragic. And noble! Oh, my nose is stinging again...

They’ll say: “What? the same one? with the glasses? What was her name? Yes? Wow! young... so pitiful... so pitiful...”

How else? Not this one boring life in book dust!
Isn’t it a bourgeois well-fed and lazy existence, the illusion of possessing insignificant values of the objective world?!
Summer on an overseas beach, winter at an alpine resort?
No, not romantic.
Prosaic and vulgar.
And in general, what kind of glamor can there be in a crisis...?

A flash of all-consuming passion! Here true meaning bright life!

In general, Lenochka dreamed of unearthly, unhappy love.
ABOUT! How she will revel in her grief!
How everyone will envy her!

Having created such a thought form for herself, she began to wait for the insidious tempter.

He waits and waits, but no! To be tall! With a burning gaze! And on your finger are the keys to an expensive car!
To seduce with promises...
Like in the song: “Call me your girl, and then hug me, and then deceive me...”
Lenochka is a modest, decent girl, her skirt is long, she covers her beautiful legs, her hair is styled hair to hair in a neat hairstyle...
Well, really, no one really wants to pick this fragrant flower with elastic petals, covered with gold?
Is there really no desire to trample him into the dirt?
And also, the professional student dreamed of giving birth to a child from him, because everyone says that you definitely need to give birth from a beautiful and beloved one!
Although, wait, what baby? What then to do with the charm of death?

What a disaster! Macho guys don't go to libraries.

Somehow an elderly intellectual wandered in, drunk and drunk. And he felt sorry for the poor thing.
Having defamed, made him happy - he deflowered somehow casually, fussily, while his wife was traveling, on the marital bed.
But then I read Pushkin: “Young beauty likes me with a shameless frenzy of desires!” - a balm for the soul!
He walked naked around the bedroom like a gogol, gesticulating, so pot-bellied, slightly crooked legs... what was between them fluttered like a soft bow... So touching!
Helen's heart sank with tenderness.
And he didn’t quit. I began to love almost regularly.
If he comes away with a hangover, he’ll ask for a hundred rubles, or better yet a thousand, but there’s not a thousand, and there’s not even a hundred... well then, he says, there’s no alternative, charming one, you’ll be with me for a hangover.
And so it was.
Either it will come or it will not come.
At first, he kept begging her to give birth to the baby, then, when she had a delay, he begged her not to give birth. Then I completely forgot about it.
He will show up, get hungover, and disappear for a long time.

And Lenochka has already begun to get used to it. Get attached. Miss. Even really sad. Maybe she fell in love?
I started to be jealous of my wife! What! A? Just like some kind of bitch! Or is it love that spoils character?
And my mother keeps shouting: “It’s time to get married!”
So take it and blurt it out, marry me, you old brat!

- Damn... - the old brute got bored thoughtfully, and disappeared!

Hooray! It came true. Our girl was sad. What a scoundrel!? A?!
And she decided to commit suicide, to take her own life.
Luckily there is a reason.

All this is not easy at all. To make it beautiful. Just like in the book...
I didn't think about my mother. And what about the mother? He will survive.
And in general, to be honest, she didn’t even remember her mother.
It's her own fault, this mother.
Wow! Everything was so good, and for you! Get married, get married! If he loves, he will marry.
I loved. And now he loves. He's probably suffering.
He's just decent. There are still decent men in the world!
Well, how can a mother not want to understand this? Damn, what were you thinking! Take away from your wife! Old fool. I wanted to babysit my grandchildren! Ugh!
It’s good that Lenochka didn’t remember about her; she was probably even more nervous than before - that would have been really bad.

And she walked with an unsteady step towards the cliff into the abyss. Somewhere high, high in the mountains.
In Terskol, for example. At Bicho Pass, maybe. And the stars are huge there! Like on another planet. But the girl doesn’t see them. What I mean is that she left at night. To make it more scary to read...
It means she’s walking, shaking her head in a detached manner like a crazy woman, muttering something, scattering her red hair...
Woohoo! Creepy?
I'm afraid myself!

Don't bullshit.
And so, out of nothing, by the will of the author, a young man materialized, as if from star dust. Quite handsome.
Came up. He took my hand. He took me aside. He began to speak words. A kind guy, well-mannered.
It turned out that he also loves literature.
Reads books. Only on the computer. But it doesn’t matter where, the main thing is reading!
Helen told her tragic story. They say she had a fiancé, with burning eyes, a tall, handsome man, who loved her, even read poetry... but her evil parents separated them and married him to a rich and ugly wretch, God forgive me!...

I feel bad! Oh, that’s bad... Help me, help me... - the plump girlish lips whispered.

And he didn’t slurp his cabbage soup with a bast shoe either!

"Love is like a sheet
Insomnia
Torn
Break down
Jealous
To Copernicus!
His!
And not Maryivanna's husband
Counting!
Yours!
A rival!"... - the beautiful young man recited Mayakovsky, and when he got to the words, -

"... love rises above the mountains of breasts behind the jungle hair!!!" - here the aesthetic delight was already sublimated and...

How can I restrain myself here? The hugs became closer, the caresses more insistent, and he penetrated her trembling, tender flesh.
Yes, he was so penetrated by his strong, true End that their souls soared into the astral plane at the same time, where they meet forever and ever, swirled in a whirlwind, and gave birth to a new star! To be always and everywhere together, in sorrow and joy, on earth and in heaven...
Helen fell asleep with a half-smile on her lips and a blush on her cheeks.
And he stroked her and kissed her plump breasts, and loved her over and over again, waking her from sleep, giving her a waking dream.
- Ah! What a beauty, what a beauty... - the librarian whispered, - Help me, help me...
- I’ll help, I’ll help...
He took her as she slept in his arms, pinned her unruly curl with a pin, hugged her, kissed her...
- Help me, help... Don't leave me-ah-ah!
“... aaaaaah!” echoed the alarmed echo.

What did you think? The boy also loved classical literature.
He could not do otherwise!
So cool!
Like Pechorin!
Onegin!
Or Razin: “And he throws her overboard into the oncoming wave!”

Oh! What a beauty this Natasha is! Fly! Fly, my love! Spread your arms like wings... - and threw her off the cliff.

And he cried bitterly, and then began to laugh hysterically. I laughed until I hiccupped.
Like Pechorin.

Cool! Fucking...

PS
*** /Let’s remember what kind of women were in the field of vision of great writers. There are only two options: either a tender, vulnerable soul given to a man and then smeared on the wall by him (Tatyana Larina, poor Lisa, Bella and others like her), or an unfaithful and flamboyant person who scatters fans left and right (“The Lady with the Camellias”, “Anna on the Neck”). Sometimes both of these objects were combined: Carman, Anna Karenina, "Lady Macbeth" Mtsensk district", "Dowry". Writers killed both unfaithful wives (Katerina from "The Thunderstorm"), and unfaithful non-wives (Carmen), and faithful wives, and faithful non-wives. If the women who fell out of love remained alive, then they were married off to rich old men. Or just for old people. If the author really likes the heroine, then for a nauseated person like Pierre Bezukhov./
comments on this story here.

“You know,” she suddenly said, “I know that I will never be as happy and calm as I am now.”

This is nonsense, nonsense, lies - said Nikolai and thought: “What a charm this Natasha is! I don’t have and never will have such another friend. Why should she get married, everyone would go with her!”

“What a charm this Nikolai is!” thought Natasha. - A! there’s still a fire in the living room,” she said, pointing to the windows of the house, which shone beautifully in the wet, velvety darkness of the night.

Count Ilya Andreich resigned from the leadership because this position was associated with too much expense. But things didn’t improve for him. Often Natasha and Nikolai saw secret, restless negotiations between their parents and heard talk about the sale of a rich, ancestral Rostov house and a house near Moscow. Without a leader there was no need to have such a large reception, and Otradnensky life was conducted more quietly than in previous years; but the huge house and outbuildings were still full of people, people still sat down at the table more people. All these were people who had settled into the house, almost members of the family, or those who, it seemed, had to live in the count’s house. These were Dimmler - a musician with his wife, Yogel - a dance teacher with his family, the old lady Belova, who lived in the house, and many others: Petya's teachers, the young ladies' former governess and simply people who were better or more profitable to live with the count than at home . There was not such a big visit as before, but the course of life was the same, without which the count and countess could not imagine life. There was the same hunting, even increased by Nikolai, the same 50 horses and 15 coachmen in the stable, the same expensive gifts on name days and ceremonial dinners for the entire county; the same count whists and bostons, for which he, throwing out cards to everyone, allowed himself to be beaten by hundreds every day by his neighbors, who looked at the right to form Count Ilya Andreich’s game as the most profitable lease.

The Count, as if in a huge snare, walked about his affairs, trying not to believe that he was entangled and with each step becoming more and more entangled and feeling unable either to break the nets that entangled him or to carefully, patiently begin to untangle them. Countess with a loving heart she felt that her children were going bankrupt, that the count was not to blame, that he could not be different from what he was, that he himself was suffering (although he hid it) from the consciousness of his own and his children’s ruin, and she was looking for means to help the cause. From her female point of view, there was only one remedy - Nikolai's marriage to a rich bride. She felt that this was the last hope, and that if Nikolai refused the match that she had found for him, she would have to say goodbye forever to the opportunity to improve matters. This party was Julie Karagina, the daughter of a beautiful, virtuous mother and father, known to the Rostovs from childhood, and now a rich bride on the occasion of the death of the last of her brothers.

The Countess wrote directly to Karagina in Moscow, proposing her daughter's marriage to her son, and received a favorable response from her. Karagina replied that she, for her part, agreed that everything would depend on her daughter’s inclination. Karagina invited Nikolai to come to Moscow.

Several times, with tears in her eyes, the countess told her son that now that both of her daughters were settled, her only desire was to see him married. She said that she would have gone to bed calm if that had been the case. Then she said that she had a beautiful girl in mind and asked his opinion about marriage.

In other conversations, she praised Julie and advised Nikolai to go to Moscow for the holidays to have fun. Nikolai guessed where his mother’s conversations were heading, and in one of these conversations he called her to complete frankness. She told him that all hope of improving matters was now based on his marriage to Karagina.

Well, if I loved a girl without a fortune, would you really demand, maman, that I sacrifice feeling and honor for the fortune? - he asked his mother, not understanding the cruelty of his question and only wanting to show his nobility.

“No, you didn’t understand me,” said the mother, not knowing how to justify herself. - You didn’t understand me, Nikolinka. “I wish your happiness,” she added and felt that she was telling a lie, that she was confused. - She cried.

“Mama, don’t cry, just tell me that you want this, and you know that I will give everything my whole life so that you can be calm,” Nikolai said. I will sacrifice everything for you, even my feelings.

But that’s not how the Countess wanted to pose the question: she didn’t want a sacrifice from her son, she herself would like to sacrifice to him.

No, you didn’t understand me, we won’t talk,” she said, wiping away her tears.

"Yes, maybe I do love poor girl, Nikolai said to himself, well, should I sacrifice my feelings and honor for my fortune? I’m surprised how my mother could tell me this. Because Sonya is poor, I cannot love her, he thought, “I cannot respond to her faithful, devoted love. And I’ll probably be happier with her than with some Julie doll. I can always sacrifice my feelings for the good of my family, he told himself, but I cannot command my feelings. If I love Sonya, then my feeling is stronger and higher than anything else for me.”

Nikolai did not go to Moscow, the countess did not resume conversation with him about marriage, and with sadness, and sometimes even embitterment, she saw signs of greater and greater rapprochement between her son and the dowryless Sonya. She reproached herself for this, but could not help but grumble and find fault with Sonya, often stopping her for no reason, calling her “you” and “my dear.” Most of all, the good countess was angry with Sonya because this poor, dark-eyed niece was so meek, so kind, so devotedly grateful to her benefactors, and so faithfully, invariably, selflessly in love with Nicholas, that it was impossible to reproach her for anything. her.

Nikolai spent his vacation with his relatives. A fourth letter was received from Prince Andrei's fiancé, from Rome, in which he wrote that he would have long been on his way to Russia if his wound had not unexpectedly opened in a warm climate, which forces him to postpone his departure until the beginning of the future of the year. Natasha was just as in love with her fiancé, just as calmed by this love and just as receptive to all the joys of life; but at the end of the fourth month of separation from him, moments of sadness began to come over her, against which she could not fight. She felt sorry for herself, it was a pity that she had wasted all this time for nothing, for no one, during which she felt so capable of loving and being loved.

It was sad in the Rostovs' house.

Christmastide came, and besides the ceremonial mass, except for the solemn and boring congratulations of neighbors and courtyard servants, except for everyone wearing new dresses, there was nothing special to commemorate Christmastide, and in the windless 20-degree frost, in the bright blinding sun during the day and in the starry winter light at night, I felt the need for some kind of commemoration of this time.

On the third day of the holiday, after lunch, all the household went to their rooms. It was the most boring time of the day. Nikolai, who went to see his neighbors in the morning, fell asleep in the sofa. The old count was resting in his office. In the living room round table Sonya was sitting, sketching a pattern. The Countess was laying out the cards. Nastasya Ivanovna the jester with sad face sat by the window with two old women. Natasha entered the room, walked up to Sonya, looked at what she was doing, then walked up to her mother and stopped silently.

Why are you walking around like a homeless person? - her mother told her. - What do you want?

I need it... now, this very minute, I need it,” said Natasha, her eyes sparkling and not smiling. - The Countess raised her head and looked intently at her daughter.

Don't look at me. Mom, don't look, I'm going to cry now.

Sit down, sit with me,” said the countess.

Mom, I need it. Why am I disappearing like this, Mom?... - Her voice broke off, tears flowed from her eyes, and in order to hide them, she quickly turned and left the room. She went into the sofa room, stood there, thought, and went to the girls’ room. There, the old maid was grumbling at a young girl who had come running out of breath from the cold from the yard.

“He will play,” said the old woman. - There is enough for all the time.

Let her in, Kondratyevna,” said Natasha. - Go, Mavrusha, go.

And letting go of Mavrusha, Natasha went through the hall to the hallway. An old man and two young footmen were playing cards. They interrupted the game and stood up as the young lady entered. “What should I do with them?” thought Natasha. - Yes, Nikita, please go... where should I send him? - Yes, go to the yard and please bring the rooster; yes, and you, Misha, bring some oats.

Would you like some oats? - Misha said cheerfully and willingly.

Go, go quickly,” the old man confirmed.

Fyodor, get me some chalk.

Passing by the buffet, she ordered the samovar to be served, although it was not the right time.

The barman Fok was the most angry person in the whole house. Natasha loved to try her power over him. He didn't believe her and went to ask if it was true?

This young lady! - said Foka, feigning a frown at Natasha.

No one in the house sent away as many people and gave them as much work as Natasha. She could not see people indifferently, so as not to send them somewhere. She seemed to be trying to see if one of them would get angry or pout with her, but people didn’t like to carry out anyone’s orders as much as Natasha’s. “What should I do? Where should I go? Natasha thought, walking slowly down the corridor.

Nastasya Ivanovna, what will happen to me? - she asked the jester, who was walking towards her in his short coat.

“Fleas, dragonflies, and blacksmiths come from you,” answered the jester.

My God, my God, it's all the same. Oh, where should I go? What should I do with myself? - And she quickly, knocking her feet, ran up the stairs to Vogel, who lived with his wife on the top floor. Vogel had two governesses sitting at his place, and there were plates of raisins, walnuts and almonds on the table. The governesses were talking about where it was cheaper to live, in Moscow or Odessa. Natasha sat down, listened to their conversation with a serious, thoughtful face, and stood up.

“The island of Madagascar,” she said. “Ma-da-gas-kar,” she repeated each syllable clearly and, without answering m-me Schoss’s questions about what she was saying, left the room.

Petya, her brother, was also upstairs: he and his uncle were arranging fireworks, which they intended to set off at night.

Peter! Petka! - she shouted to him. - Take me down. - Petya ran up to her and offered her his back. She jumped on him, clasping his neck with her arms, and he jumped and ran with her. “No, don’t... the island of Madagascar,” she said and, jumping off it, went down.

As if having walked around her kingdom, tested her power and made sure that everyone was submissive, but that it was still boring, Natasha went into the hall, took a guitar, sat down in a dark corner behind a cabinet and began plucking the strings of the bass, making a phrase that she remembered from one opera heard in St. Petersburg together with Prince Andrei. For outside listeners, something came out on her guitar that had no meaning, but in her imagination, because of these sounds, it resurrected whole line memories. She sat behind the cupboard, her eyes fixed on the strip of light falling from the pantry door, listened to herself and remembered. She was in a state of memory.