A million torments. “A Million Torments” (critical study) A Million Torments of Potters read the article briefly

The comedy “Woe from Wit” somehow stands apart in literature and is distinguished by its youthfulness, freshness and stronger vitality from other works of the word. She is like a hundred-year-old man, around whom everyone, having lived out their time in turn, dies and lies down, and he walks, vigorous and fresh, between the graves of old people and the cradles of new people. And it never occurs to anyone that someday his turn will come.

“Woe from Wit” appeared before Onegin, Pechorin, survived them, passed unscathed through the Gogol period, lived these half a century from the time of its appearance and still lives its imperishable life, will survive many more eras, and everything will not lose its vitality.

Why is this, and what is “Woe from Wit” anyway?

Criticism did not move the comedy from the place it had once occupied, as if at a loss as to where to place it. The oral assessment was ahead of the printed one, just as the play itself was long ahead of the printing. But the literate masses actually appreciated it. Immediately realizing its beauty and not finding any flaws, she tore the manuscript into pieces, into verses, half-verses, spread all the salt and wisdom of the play into colloquial speech, as if she had turned a million into ten-kopeck pieces, and so peppered the conversation with Griboyedov’s sayings that she literally wore out the comedy to the point of satiety. .

Printed criticism has always treated with more or less severity only the stage performance of the play, touching little on the comedy itself, or expressing itself in fragmentary, incomplete and contradictory reviews. It was decided once and for all that the comedy was an exemplary work - and with that everyone made peace.

Some value in comedy a picture of Moscow morals of a certain era, the creation of living types and their skillful grouping. The whole play seems to be a circle of faces familiar to the reader, and, moreover, as definite and closed as a deck of cards. The faces of Famusov, Molchalin, Skalozub and others were etched into the memory as firmly as kings, jacks and queens in cards, and everyone had a more or less consistent concept of all the faces, except for one - Chatsky. So they are all drawn correctly and strictly, and so they have become familiar to everyone. Only about Chatsky many are perplexed: what is he? It's like he's the fifty-third mysterious card in the deck. If there was little disagreement in the understanding of other people, then about Chatsky, on the contrary, the differences have not ended yet and, perhaps, will not end for a long time.

Others, giving justice to the picture of morals, the fidelity of types, value the more epigrammatic salt of language, living satire - morality, with which the play still, like an inexhaustible well, supplies everyone at every everyday step of life.

All these various impressions and each one’s own point of view based on them serve as the best definition of the play, i.e., that The comedy “Woe from Wit” is both a picture of morals, and a gallery of living types, and an ever-sharp, burning satire, and at the same time a comedy and, let’s say for ourselves - most of all a comedy - which can hardly be found in other literatures, if we accept the totality of all other stated conditions. As a painting, it is, without a doubt, enormous. Her canvas captures a long period of Russian life - from Catherine to Emperor Nicholas. The group of twenty faces reflected, like a ray of light in a drop of water, the entire former Moscow, its design, its spirit at that time, its historical moment and morals. And this with such artistic, objective completeness and certainty that only Pushkin and Gogol were given in our country.

In a picture where there is not a single pale spot, not a single extraneous stroke or sound,- the viewer and the reader feel themselves even now, in our era, among living people. Both the general and the details, all this is not composed, but entirely taken from Moscow living rooms and transferred to the book and to the stage, with all the warmth and with all the “special imprint” "Moscow, - from Famusov to the small touches, to Prince Tugoukhovsky and to the footman Petrushka, without whom the picture would not be complete.

However, for us it is not yet a completely completed historical picture: we have not moved away from the era at a sufficient distance for an impassable abyss to lie between it and our time. The coloring was not smoothed out at all; the century has not separated from ours, like a cut-off piece: we have inherited something from there, although the Famusovs, Molchalins, Zagoretskys, etc. have changed so that they no longer fit into the skin of Griboyedov’s types. The harsh features have become obsolete, of course: no Famusov will now invite Maxim Petrovich to become a jester and set an example, at least so positively and clearly Molchalin, even in front of the maid, secretly, now does not confess to the commandments that his father bequeathed to him; such a Skalozub, such a Zagoretsky are impossible even in a distant outback. But as long as there will be a desire for honors apart from merit, as long as there will be masters and hunters to please and “take rewards and live happily,” while gossip, idleness, and emptiness will dominate not as vices, but as elements of social life - so long, of course , the features of the Famusovs, Molchalins and others will flash in modern society, there is no need that that “special imprint” of which Famusov was proud has been erased from Moscow itself.

Universal human models, of course, always remain, although they turn into types unrecognizable due to temporary changes, so that, to replace the old, artists sometimes have to update, after long periods, the basic features of morals and human nature in general that once appeared in images , clothing them with new flesh and blood in the spirit of their time

This can especially be attributed to Griboyedov’s comedy. In it, the local coloring is too bright, and the designation of the characters themselves is so strictly delineated and furnished with such reality of details that universal human traits can hardly stand out from under social positions, ranks, costumes, etc.

Chatsky himself thunders against the “past century” when the comedy was written, and it was written between 1815 and 1820.

or:

he says to Famusov

Consequently, now only a little of the local color remains: passion for rank, sycophancy, emptiness. But with some reforms, the ranks can move away, sycophancy to the extent of Molchalinsky’s lackeyness is already hiding in the darkness, and the poetry of the fruit has given way to a strict and rational direction in military affairs.

But there are still some living traces, and they still prevent the painting from turning into a completed historical bas-relief. This future is still far ahead of her.

Salt, an epigram, a satire, this colloquial verse, it seems, will never die, just like the sharp and caustic, living Russian mind scattered in them, which Griboyedov imprisoned, like some kind of wizard spirit, in his castle, and it crumbles there an evil laugh. It is impossible to imagine that another, more natural, simpler, more taken from life speech could ever appear. Prose and verse merged here into something inseparable, then, it seems, so that it would be easier to retain them in memory and put into circulation again all the intelligence, humor, jokes and anger of the Russian mind and language collected by the author. This language was given to the author in the same way as a group of these individuals was given, as the main meaning of the comedy was given, as everything was given together, as if it poured out at once, and everything formed an extraordinary comedy - both in the narrow sense, like a stage play, and in the broad sense, like a comedy life It couldn't be anything else but a comedy

Leaving the two main aspects of the play, which so clearly speak for themselves, and therefore have the majority of admirers, - that is, the picture of the era, with a group of living portraits, and the salt of the language - let us first turn to the comedy, as a stage play, then as comedy in general, to its general meaning, to its main reason in social and literary significance, and finally let’s talk about its performance on stage.

We have long been accustomed to saying that there is no movement, that is, there is no action in the play. How is there no movement? There is - living, continuous, from Chatsky’s first appearance on the sienna to his last word: “Carriage for me, carriage!”

This is a subtle, intelligent, elegant and passionate comedy, in a close, technical sense, true in small psychological details, but elusive for the viewer, because it is disguised by the typical faces of the heroes, ingenious drawing, the color of the place, the era, the charm of the language, all poetic forces, so abundantly diffused in the play. The action, that is, the actual intrigue in it, in front of these capital aspects seems pale, superfluous, almost unnecessary.

Only when driving around in the entryway does the viewer seem to awaken to the unexpected catastrophe that has broken out between the main characters, and suddenly remember the comedy-intrigue. But even then not for long. The enormous, real meaning of comedy is already growing before him.

Ivan Goncharov

"A Million Torments"

(Critical study)

Woe from mind Griboedova.- Monakhov's benefit, November, 1871

How to look and look (he says),
This century and this century past,
The legend is fresh, but hard to believe -

And about his time he expresses himself like this:

Now everyone breathes more freely, -

Scolded your forever I am merciless, -

I would be glad to serve, but it makes me sick to serve,

He hints himself. There is no mention of “yearning laziness, idle boredom,” and even less of “tender passion,” as a science and an occupation. He loves seriously, seeing Sophia as his future wife.

Meanwhile, Chatsky had to drink the bitter cup to the bottom - not finding “living sympathy” in anyone, and leaving, taking with him only “a million torments.” Neither Onegin nor Pechorin would have acted so foolishly in general, especially in the matter of love and matchmaking. But they have already turned pale and turned into stone statues for us, and Chatsky remains and will always remain alive for this “stupidity” of his. The reader remembers, of course, everything that Chatsky did. Let us slightly trace the course of the play and try to highlight from it the dramatic interest of the comedy, the movement that runs through the entire play, like an invisible but living thread connecting all the parts and faces of the comedy with each other. Chatsky runs to Sophia, straight from the road carriage, without stopping by his place, passionately kisses her hand, looks into her eyes, rejoices at the date, hoping to find an answer to his old feeling - and does not find it. He was struck by two changes: she became unusually prettier and cooled towards him - also unusual. This puzzled him, upset him, and a little irritated him. In vain he tries to sprinkle the salt of humor into his conversation, partly playing with this strength of his, which, of course, was what Sophia liked before when she loved him - partly under the influence of annoyance and disappointment. Everyone gets it, he went through everyone - from Sophia’s father to Molchalin - and with what apt features he draws Moscow - and how many of these poems have gone into living speech! But everything is in vain: tender memories, witticisms - nothing helps. He suffers nothing but coldness from her, until, caustically touching Molchalin, he touched her too. She already asks him with hidden anger whether he happened to even accidentally “say kind things about someone,” and disappears at her father’s entrance, betraying Chatsky to the latter almost with her head, that is, declaring him the hero of the dream told to his father before. From that moment on, a hot duel ensued between her and Chatsky, the most lively action, a comedy in the close sense, in which two persons, Molchalin and Liza, take a close part. Every step of Chatsky, almost every word in the play is closely connected with the play of his feelings for Sophia, irritated by some kind of lie in her actions, which he struggles to unravel until the very end. His whole mind and all his strength go into this struggle: it served as a motive, a reason for irritation, for that “millions of torments”, under the influence of which he could only play the role indicated to him by Griboyedov, a role of much greater, higher significance than unsuccessful love , in a word, the role for which the whole comedy was born. Chatsky hardly notices Famusov, coldly and absentmindedly answers his question, where have you been? “Do I care now?” - he says and, promising to come again, leaves, saying from what is absorbing him:

How Sofya Pavlovna has become prettier for you!

On his second visit, he begins the conversation again about Sofya Pavlovna: “Isn’t she sick? did she experience any sadness? - and to such an extent he is overwhelmed and fueled by the feeling of her blossoming beauty and her coldness towards him that when asked by his father if he wants to marry her, he absent-mindedly asks: “What do you want?” And then indifferently, only out of decency, he adds:

Let me woo you, what would you tell me?

And almost without listening to the answer, he sluggishly remarks on the advice to “serve”:

I would be glad to serve, but being served is sickening!

He came to Moscow and to Famusov, obviously for Sophia and for Sophia alone. He doesn't care about others; Even now he is annoyed that instead of her he found only Famusov. “How could she not be here?” - he asks himself, remembering his former youthful love, which in him “neither distance, nor entertainment, nor a change of place cooled” - and is tormented by its coldness. He is bored and talking with Famusov - and only Famusov’s positive challenge to an argument brings Chatsky out of his concentration.

That's it, you are all proud:

Famusov speaks and then draws such a crude and ugly picture of servility that Chatsky could not stand it and, in turn, made a parallel between the “past” century and the “present” century.

But his irritation is still restrained: he seems ashamed of himself that he decided to sober Famusov from his concepts; he hastens to insert that “he’s not talking about his uncle,” whom Famusov cited as an example, and even invites the latter to scold his age; finally, he tries in every possible way to hush up the conversation, seeing how Famusov has covered his ears, he calms him down, almost apologizes.

It’s not my desire to continue the debate,

He says. He is ready to enter himself again. But he is awakened by Famusov’s unexpected hint about a rumor about Skalozub’s matchmaking.

It’s as if he’s marrying Sofyushka... etc.

Chatsky perked up his ears.

How he fusses, what agility!

“And Sophia? Isn’t there really a groom here?” - he says, and although then he adds:

Ah - tell love the end,
Who will go away for three years! —

But he himself still does not believe it, following the example of all lovers, until this love axiom plays out over him to the end.

Famusov confirms his hint about Skalozub’s marriage, imposing on the latter the thought of “the general’s wife,” and almost obviously invites him to matchmaking. These hints about marriage aroused Chatsky’s suspicions about the reasons for Sophia’s change towards him. He even agreed to Famusov’s request to give up “false ideas” and remain silent in front of the guest. But irritation was already rising, and he intervened in the conversation, until casually, and then, annoyed by Famusov’s awkward praise of his intelligence and so on, he raised his tone and resolved himself with a sharp monologue: “Who are the judges?” etc. Here another struggle begins, an important and serious one, a whole battle. Here, in a few words, the main motive is heard, as in an opera overture, and the true meaning and purpose of the comedy is hinted at. Both Famusov and Chatsky threw down the gauntlet to each other:

If only we could see what our fathers did
You should learn by looking at your elders! —

Famusov's military cry was heard. Who are these elders and “judges”?

For the decrepitude of years
Their enmity towards a free life is irreconcilable, -

Chatsky answers and executes -

The meanest features of the past life.

Two camps were formed, or, on the one hand, a whole camp of the Famusovs and the entire brethren of “fathers and elders,” on the other, one ardent and brave fighter, “the enemy of quest.” This is a struggle for life and death, a struggle for existence, as the newest naturalists define the natural succession of generations in the animal world. Famusov wants to be an “ace” - “eat on silver and gold, ride in a train, covered in orders, be rich and see children rich, in ranks, in orders and with a key” - and so on endlessly, and all this just for that , that he signs papers without reading and is afraid of one thing, “so that a lot of them do not accumulate.” Chatsky strives for a “free life”, “to pursue” science and art and demands “service to the cause, not to individuals,” etc. On whose side is victory? Comedy gives Chatsky only "a million torments" and leaves, apparently, Famusov and his brethren in the same position as they were, without saying anything about the consequences of the struggle. We now know these consequences. They were revealed with the advent of comedy, still in manuscript, in the light - and like an epidemic swept across all of Russia. Meanwhile, the intrigue of love runs its course, correctly, with subtle psychological fidelity, which in any other play, devoid of other colossal Griboyedov beauties, could make a name for the author. Sophia's fainting when Molchalin fell from his horse, her sympathy for him, so carelessly expressed, Chatsky's new sarcasms on Molchalin - all this complicated the action and formed that main point, which was called the plot in the poems. Here the dramatic interest was concentrated. Chatsky almost guessed the truth.

Confusion, fainting, haste, anger of fright!
(on the occasion of Molchalin’s fall from his horse) -
You can feel all this
When you lose your only friend,

He says and leaves in great excitement, in the throes of suspicion about the two rivals.

In the third act, he gets to the ball before everyone else, with the goal of “forcing a confession” from Sophia - and with trembling impatience he gets down to business directly with the question: “Who does she love?” After an evasive answer, she admits that she prefers his “others.” It seems clear. He sees this himself and even says:

And what do I want when everything is decided?
It’s a noose for me, but it’s funny for her!

However, he climbs in, like all lovers, despite his “intelligence,” and is already weakening in front of her indifference. He throws a weapon that is useless against a happy opponent - a direct attack on him, and condescends to pretend.

Once in my life I'll pretend,

He decides to “solve the riddle,” but actually to hold Sophia when she rushed away at the new arrow fired at Molchalin. This is not pretense, but a concession with which he wants to beg for something that cannot be begged for - love when there is none. In his speech one can already hear a pleading tone, gentle reproaches, complaints:

But does he have that passion, that feeling, that ardor...
So that, besides you, he has the whole world
Did it seem like dust and vanity?
So that every beat of the heart
Love accelerated towards you... -

He says - and finally:

To make me more indifferent to the loss,
As a person - you, who grew up with you,
As your friend, as your brother,
Let me make sure...

These are already tears. He touches serious strings of feeling -

I can beware of madness
I’m going to go away to catch a cold, get cold... -

He concludes. Then all that was left was to fall to my knees and sob. The remnants of his mind save him from useless humiliation.

Such a masterful scene, expressed in such verses, is hardly represented by any other dramatic work. It is impossible to express a feeling more noblely and soberly, as it was expressed by Chatsky, it is impossible to extricate oneself from a trap more subtly and gracefully, as Sofya Pavlovna extricates oneself. Only Pushkin's scenes of Onegin and Tatyana resemble these subtle features of intelligent natures. Sophia managed to completely get rid of Chatsky’s new suspicion, but she herself became carried away by her love for Molchalin and almost ruined the whole matter by expressing her love almost openly. To Chatsky’s question:

Why did you get to know him (Molchalin) so briefly?

- she answers:

I didn't try! God brought us together.

This is enough to open the eyes of the blind. But Molchalin himself saved her, that is, his insignificance. In her enthusiasm, she hastened to draw his full-length portrait, perhaps in the hope of reconciling not only herself, but also others, even Chatsky, with this love, not noticing how the portrait turned out vulgar:

Look, he gained the friendship of everyone in the house.
Serves under the priest for three years;
He is often pointlessly angry,
And he will disarm him with silence,
From the kindness of his soul he will forgive.
And, by the way,
I could look for fun, -
Not at all, the old people won’t set foot outside the threshold!
We are frolicking and laughing;
He’ll sit with them all day, whether he’s happy or not,
Playing...

Further:

Of the most wonderful quality...
He is finally: compliant, modest, quiet,
And there are no wrongdoings in my soul;
He doesn’t cut strangers at random...
That's why I love him!

Chatsky’s doubts were dispelled:

She doesn't respect him!
He's being naughty, she doesn't love him.
She doesn't give a damn about him! —

He consoles himself with each of her praises to Molchalin and then grabs onto Skalozub. But her answer - that he was “not the hero of her novel” - destroyed these doubts too. He leaves her without jealousy, but in thought, saying:

Who will unravel you!

He himself did not believe in the possibility of such rivals, but now he is convinced of it. But his hopes for reciprocity, which had until now passionately worried him, were completely shaken, especially when she did not agree to stay with him under the pretext that “the tongs would get cold,” and then, when she asked him to let him come into her room, with a new barb on Molchalin, she slipped away from him and locked herself in. He felt that the main goal of returning to Moscow had betrayed him, and he left Sophia with sadness. He, as he later confesses in the entryway, from that moment on only suspects in her coldness towards everything - and after this scene the fainting itself was attributed not “to a sign of living passions,” as before, but “to a quirk of spoiled nerves.” His next scene with Molchalin, which fully describes the latter’s character, confirms Chatsky definitively that Sophia does not love this rival.

The liar laughed at me! —

He notices and goes to meet new faces.

The comedy between him and Sophia ended; The burning irritation of jealousy subsided, and the coldness of hopelessness entered his soul. All he had to do was leave; but another, lively, lively comedy invades the stage, several new perspectives of Moscow life open up at once, which not only displace Chatsky’s intrigue from the viewer’s memory, but Chatsky himself seems to forget about it and gets in the way of the crowd. New faces group around him and play, each their own role. This is a ball, with all the Moscow atmosphere, with a series of live stage sketches, in which each group forms its own separate comedy, with a complete outline of the characters, who managed to play out in a few words into a complete action. Isn’t the Gorichevs playing a complete comedy? This husband, recently still a cheerful and lively man, is now degraded, clothed, as in a dressing gown, in Moscow life, a gentleman, “a boy-husband, a servant-husband, the ideal of Moscow husbands,” according to Chatsky’s apt definition, - under the shoe of a cloying, cutesy , socialite wife, Moscow lady? And these six princesses and the countess-granddaughter - this whole contingent of brides, “who, according to Famusov, know how to dress themselves up with taffeta, marigold and haze,” “singing the top notes and clinging to military people”? This Khlestova, a remnant of Catherine's century, with a pug, with a blackamoor girl - this princess and prince Peter Ilyich - without a word, but such a speaking ruin of the past; Zagoretsky, an obvious swindler, escaping from prison in the best living rooms and paying off with obsequiousness, like dog diarrhea - and these N.N., and all their talk, and all the content that occupies them! The influx of these faces is so abundant, their portraits are so vivid that the viewer becomes cold to the intrigue, not having time to catch these quick sketches of new faces and listen to their original conversation. Chatsky is no longer on stage. But before leaving, he gave abundant food to that main comedy that began with Famusov, in the first act, then with Molchalin - that battle with all of Moscow, where, according to the author’s goals, he then came. In brief, even instant meetings with old acquaintances, he managed to arm everyone against him with caustic remarks and sarcasms. He is already keenly affected by all sorts of trifles - and he gives free rein to his tongue. He angered the old woman Khlestova, gave some inappropriate advice to Gorichev, abruptly cut off the countess-granddaughter and again offended Molchalin. But the cup overflowed. He leaves the back rooms, completely upset, and out of old friendship, in the crowd he again goes to Sophia, hoping for at least simple sympathy. He confides in her his state of mind:

A million torments! —

He says. he complains to her, not suspecting what conspiracy has matured against him in the enemy camp.

“A million torments” and “woe!” - this is what he reaped for everything he managed to sow. Until now he had been invincible: his mind mercilessly struck the sore spots of his enemies. Famusov finds nothing but to cover his ears against his logic, and shoots back with commonplaces of the old morality. Molchalin falls silent, the princesses and countesses back away from him, burned by the nettles of his laughter, and his former friend, Sophia, whom he spares alone, dissembles, slips and deals him the main blow on the sly, declaring him, at hand, casually, crazy. He felt his strength and spoke confidently. But the struggle exhausted him. He obviously weakened from this “millions of torments,” and the disorder was so noticeable in him that all the guests grouped around him, just as a crowd gathers around any phenomenon that comes out of the ordinary order of things. He is not only sad, but also bilious and picky. He, like a wounded man, gathers all his strength, challenges the crowd - and strikes everyone - but he does not have enough power against the united enemy. He falls into exaggeration, almost into intoxication of speech, and confirms in the opinion of the guests the rumor spread by Sophia about his madness. One can no longer hear sharp, poisonous sarcasm, into which a correct, definite idea is inserted, the truth, but some kind of bitter complaint, as if about a personal insult, about an empty, or, in his own words, “insignificant meeting with a Frenchman from Bordeaux,” which he, in a normal state of mind, would hardly have noticed. He has ceased to control himself and does not even notice that he himself is putting together a performance at the ball. He also falls into patriotic pathos, goes so far as to say that he finds the tailcoat contrary to “reason and the elements,” and is angry that madame and mademoiselle have not been translated into Russian—in a word, “il divague!” - all six princesses and the Countess-granddaughter probably concluded about him. He feels this himself, saying that “in a crowd of people he is confused, he is not himself!” He is definitely not himself, starting with the monologue “about a Frenchman from Bordeaux” - and remains so until the end of the play. There are only “millions of torments” ahead. Pushkin, denying Chatsky his mind, probably most of all had in mind the last scene of the 4th act, in the entryway, while driving around. Of course, neither Onegin nor Pechorin, these dandies, would have done what Chatsky did in the entryway. They were too trained “in the science of tender passion,” but Chatsky is distinguished, by the way, by sincerity and simplicity, and does not know how and does not want to show off. He is not a dandy, not a lion. Here not only his mind betrays him, but also his common sense, even simple decency. He did such nonsense! Having gotten rid of Repetilov's chatter and hid in the Swiss waiting for the carriage, he spied on Sophia's date with Molchalin and played the role of Othello, without having any rights to do so. He reproaches her for why she “lured him with hope,” why she didn’t directly say that the past was forgotten. Every word here is not true. She did not entice him with any hope. All she did was walk away from him, barely spoke to him, admitted indifference, called some old children’s novel and hiding in corners “childish” and even hinted that “God brought her together with Molchalin.” And he, only because -

So passionate and so low
There was a waste of tender words, -

In rage for his own useless humiliation, for the deception voluntarily imposed on himself, he executes everyone, and throws at her a cruel and unfair word:

With you I am proud of my breakup, -

When there was nothing to tear apart! Finally he just comes to the point of abuse, pouring out bile:

For the daughter and for the father.
And on the lover stupid —

And he seethes with rage at everyone, “at the tormentors of the crowd, traitors, clumsy wise men, crafty simpletons, sinister old women,” etc. And he leaves Moscow to look for “a corner for offended feelings,” pronouncing a merciless judgment and sentence on everyone!

If he had had one healthy moment, if he had not been burned by “a million torments,” he would, of course, have asked himself the question: “Why and for what reason have I done all this mess?” And, of course, I wouldn’t find the answer. Griboyedov is responsible for him, who ended the play with this disaster for a reason. In it, not only for Sophia, but also for Famusov and all his guests, Chatsky’s “mind,” which sparkled like a ray of light in the whole play, burst out at the end into that thunder at which, as the proverb goes, men are baptized. From the thunder, Sophia was the first to cross herself, remaining until Chatsky appeared, when Molchalin was already crawling at her feet, with the same unconscious Sofia Pavlovna, with the same lies in which her father raised her, in which he lived himself, his entire house and his entire circle . Having not yet recovered from shame and horror when the mask fell from Molchalin, she first of all rejoices that “at night she learned everything, that there are no reproachful witnesses in her eyes!” But there are no witnesses, therefore, everything is sewn and covered, you can forget, marry, perhaps, Skalozub, and look at the past... No way to look. She will endure her moral sense, Liza will not let slip, Molchalin does not dare to say a word. And husband? But what kind of Moscow husband, “one of his wife’s pages,” would look back at the past! This is her morality, and the morality of her father, and the whole circle. Meanwhile, Sofya Pavlovna is not individually immoral: she sins with the sin of ignorance, the blindness in which everyone lived -

The light does not punish delusions,
But it requires secrets for them!

This couplet by Pushkin expresses the general meaning of conventional morality. Sophia never saw the light from her and would never have seen without Chatsky, for lack of chance. After the disaster, from the minute Chatsky appeared, it was no longer possible to remain blind. His ships cannot be ignored, nor bribed with lies, nor appeased - it is impossible. She cannot help but respect him, and he will be her eternal “reproachful witness,” the judge of her past. He opened her eyes. Before him, she did not realize the blindness of her feelings for Molchalin and even, analyzing the latter, in the scene with Chatsky, thread by thread, she herself did not see the light on him. She did not notice that she herself had called him to this love, which he, trembling with fear, did not even dare to think about. She was not embarrassed by meetings alone at night, and she even let slip her gratitude to him in the last scene for the fact that “in the silence of the night he was more timid in his disposition!” Consequently, the fact that she is not completely and irrevocably carried away, she owes not to herself, but to him! Finally, at the very beginning, she blurts out even more naively in front of the maid.

Just think how capricious happiness is,

She says, when her father found Molchalin in her room early in the morning, “

It can be worse - you can get away with it!

And Molchalin sat in her room the whole night. What did she mean by “worse”? You might think God knows what: but honny soit qui mal y pense! Sofya Pavlovna is not at all as guilty as she seems. This is a mixture of good instincts with lies, a lively mind with the absence of any hint of ideas and beliefs, confusion of concepts, mental and moral blindness - all this does not have the character of personal vices in her, but appears as general features of her circle. In her own, personal face, something of her own is hidden in the shadows, hot, tender, even dreamy. The rest belongs to education. French books, which Famusov complains about, piano (also with flute accompaniment), poetry, French language and dancing - this was what was considered the classical education of a young lady. And then “Kuznetsky Most and Eternal Renewals”, balls, such as this ball at her father’s, and this society - this is the circle where the life of the “young lady” was concluded. Women learned only to imagine and feel and did not learn to think and know. Thought was silent, only instincts spoke. They drew worldly wisdom from novels and stories - and from there instincts developed into ugly, pitiful or stupid properties: daydreaming, sentimentality, the search for an ideal in love, and sometimes worse. In a soporific stagnation, in a hopeless sea of lies, the majority of women outside were dominated by conventional morality - and quietly, life was teeming, in the absence of healthy and serious interests, of any content at all, with those novels from which the “science of tender passion” was created. The Onegins and Pechorins are representatives of a whole class, almost a breed of dexterous gentlemen, jeunes premiers. These advanced personalities in high life - such were also in works of literature, where they occupied an honorable place from the times of chivalry to our time, to Gogol. Pushkin himself, not to mention Lermontov, valued this external splendor, this representativeness du bon ton, the manners of high society, under which lay “bitterness”, and “yearning laziness”, and “interesting boredom”. Pushkin spared Onegin, although he touches with slight irony his idleness and emptiness, but he describes to the smallest detail and with pleasure the fashionable suit, the trinkets of the toilet, the dandyism - and that assumed negligence and inattention to anything, this fatuité, the posing that the dandies flaunted. The spirit of later times removed the tempting drapery from his hero and all “gentlemen” like him and determined the true meaning of such gentlemen, driving them out of the foreground. They were the heroes and leaders of these novels, and both parties were trained before marriage, which absorbed all the novels almost without a trace, unless some kind of faint-hearted, sentimental - in a word, a fool - was encountered and announced, or the hero turned out to be such a sincere “crazy” as Chatsky. But in Sofya Pavlovna, we hasten to make a reservation, that is, in her feelings for Molchalin, there is a lot of sincerity, strongly reminiscent of Tatiana Pushkin. The difference between them is made by the “Moscow imprint”, then by the sprightliness, the ability to control oneself, which appeared in Tatyana when she met Onegin after marriage, and until then she was not able to lie about love even to the nanny. But Tatyana is a country girl, and Sofya Pavlovna is a Moscow girl, developed as it was then. Meanwhile, in her love, she is just as ready to give herself away as Tatyana: both, as if sleepwalking, wander in infatuation with childish simplicity. And Sophia, like Tatyana, begins the novel herself, not finding anything reprehensible in it, she doesn’t even know about it. Sophia is surprised at the maid’s laughter when she tells how she and Molchalin spend the whole night: “Not a free word! “And so the whole night goes by!” “The enemy of insolence, always shy, bashful!” That's what she admires about him! It’s funny, but there is some kind of almost grace here - and far from immorality, there is no need for her to let it slip: worse is also naivety. The huge difference is not between her and Tatyana, but between Onegin and Molchalin. Sophia's choice, of course, does not recommend her, but Tatyana's choice was also random, even she hardly had anyone to choose from. Looking deeper into Sophia’s character and surroundings, you see that it was not immorality (but not “God,” of course) that “brought her together” with Molchalin. First of all, the desire to patronize a loved one, poor, modest, who does not dare raise his eyes to her - to elevate him to oneself, to one’s circle, to give him family rights. Without a doubt, she enjoyed the role of ruling over a submissive creature, making him happy and having an eternal slave in him. It’s not her fault that this turned out to be a future “husband-boy, husband-servant - the ideal of Moscow husbands!” There was nowhere to stumble upon other ideals in Famusov’s house. In general, it is difficult to be unsympathetic to Sofya Pavlovna: she has strong inclinations of a remarkable nature, a lively mind, passion and feminine softness. It was ruined in the stuffiness, where not a single ray of light, not a single stream of fresh air penetrated. No wonder Chatsky loved her too. After him, she, alone from this entire crowd, begs for some kind of sad feeling, and in the reader’s soul there is not that indifferent laughter against her with which he parted with other people. She, of course, has it harder than everyone else, harder even than Chatsky, and she gets her “millions of torments.” Chatsky's role is a passive role: it cannot be otherwise. This is the role of all Chatskys, although at the same time it is always victorious. But they do not know about their victory, they only sow, and others reap - and this is their main suffering, that is, in the hopelessness of success. Of course, he did not bring Pavel Afanasyevich Famusov to his senses, sober him up, or correct him. If Famusov had not had “reproachful witnesses” during his departure, that is, a crowd of lackeys and a doorman, he would have easily dealt with his grief: he would have given his daughter a head wash, he would have torn Lisa’s ear out and hastened the wedding of Sophia with Skalozub. But now it’s impossible: the next morning, thanks to the scene with Chatsky, all of Moscow will know - and most of all “Princess Marya Alekseevna.” His peace will be disturbed from all sides - and will inevitably make him think about something that never occurred to him. He is unlikely to even end his life as an “ace” like the previous ones. The rumors generated by Chatsky could not help but stir up the entire circle of his relatives and friends. He himself could no longer find a weapon against Chatsky’s heated monologues. All Chatsky’s words will spread, be repeated everywhere and create their own storm. Molchalin, after the scene in the entryway, cannot remain the same Molchalin. The mask is pulled off, he is recognized, and like a caught thief, he has to hide in a corner. The Gorichevs, Zagoretskys, the princesses - all fell under a hail of his shots, and these shots will not remain without a trace. In this still consonant chorus, other voices, still bold yesterday, will fall silent or others will be heard, both for and against. The battle was just heating up. Chatsky's authority was known before as the authority of intelligence, wit, of course, knowledge and other things. He already has like-minded people. Skalozub complains that his brother left the service without receiving his rank and began reading books. One of the old women grumbles that her nephew, Prince Fyodor, is studying chemistry and botany. All that was needed was an explosion, a battle, and it began, stubborn and hot - on one day in one house, but its consequences, as we said above, were reflected throughout Moscow and Russia. Chatsky created a schism, and if he was deceived in his personal goals, did not find “the charm of meetings, living participation,” then he himself sprinkled living water on the dead soil - taking with him “a million torments,” this Chatsky’s crown of thorns - torments from everything: from “ mind,” and even more from “offended feelings.” Neither Onegin, nor Pechorin, nor other dandies were suitable for this role. They knew how to shine with the novelty of ideas, as well as the novelty of a suit, new perfume, and so on. Having driven into the wilderness, Onegin amazed everyone by the fact that he “didn’t approach ladies’ hands, drank red wine in glasses, not shot glasses,” and simply said: “yes and no” instead of “yes, sir, and no, sir.” He winces at the “lingonberry water”, in disappointment scolds the moon “stupid” - and the sky too. He brought a new one for a dime and, having intervened “smartly”, and not like Chatsky “stupidly”, in the love of Lensky and Olga and killing Lensky, he took with him not a “million”, but a torment for a dime! Now, in our time, of course, they would reproach Chatsky for why he put his “offended feeling” above public issues, the common good, etc. and did not stay in Moscow to continue his role as a fighter with lies and prejudices, his role is higher and more important than the role of the rejected groom? Yes, now! And at that time, for the majority, the concept of public issues would have been the same as for Repetilov the talk of “the camera and the jury.” Criticism made a big mistake in that in its trial of the famous dead it left the historical point, ran ahead and hit them with modern weapons. Let’s not repeat her mistakes - and we won’t blame Chatsky for the fact that in his hot speeches addressed to Famusov’s guests, there is no mention of the common good, when there is already such a split from “searching for places, from ranks” as “engaging in the sciences and arts ", was considered "robbery and fire." The vitality of Chatsky’s role does not lie in the novelty of unknown ideas, brilliant hypotheses, hot and daring utopias, or even en herbe truths: he has no abstractions. Heralds of a new dawn, or fanatics, or simply messengers - all these advanced couriers of the unknown future are and - according to the natural course of social development - should appear, but their roles and physiognomies are infinitely diverse. The role and physiognomy of the Chatskys remains unchanged. Chatsky is most of all an exposer of lies and everything that has become obsolete, that drowns out new life, “free life.” He knows what he is fighting for and what this life should bring him. He does not lose the ground from under his feet and does not believe in a ghost until he has put on flesh and blood, has not been comprehended by reason, truth - in a word, has not become human. Before being carried away by an unknown ideal, before the seduction of a dream, he will soberly stop, just as he stopped before the senseless denial of “laws, conscience and faith” in Repetilov’s chatter, and say his own:

Listen, lie, but know when to stop!

He is very positive in his demands and states them in a ready-made program, developed not by him, but by the century that has already begun. With youthful ardor, he does not drive from the stage everything that has survived, that, according to the laws of reason and justice, as according to natural laws in physical nature, remains to live out its term, that can and should be tolerable. He demands space and freedom for his age: he asks for work, but does not want to serve and stigmatizes servility and buffoonery. He demands “service to the cause, and not to individuals,” does not mix “fun or tomfoolery with business,” like Molchalin; he languishes among the empty, idle crowd of “tormentors, traitors, sinister old women, quarrelsome old men,” refusing to bow to their authority of decrepitude , love of rank and so on. He is outraged by the ugly manifestations of serfdom, insane luxury and disgusting morals of “spillage in feasts and extravagance” - phenomena of mental and moral blindness and corruption. His ideal of a “free life” is definitive: this is freedom from all these countless chains of slavery that shackle society, and then freedom - “to focus on the sciences the mind hungry for knowledge”, or to unhinderedly indulge in “the creative, high and beautiful arts” - freedom “to serve or not to serve”, “to live in the village or travel”, without being considered either a robber or an incendiary, and - a series of further successive similar steps to freedom - from unfreedom. Both Famusov and others know this and, of course, they all privately agree with him, but the struggle for existence prevents them from giving in. Out of fear for himself, for his serenely idle existence, Famusov closes his ears and slanderes Chatsky when he tells him his modest program of “free life.” By the way -

Who travels, who lives in the village -

He says, and he objects with horror:

Yes, he does not recognize the authorities!

So, he also lies because he has nothing to say, and everything that lived as a lie in the past lies. The old truth will never be embarrassed by the new - it will take this new, truthful and reasonable burden on its shoulders. Only the sick, the unnecessary are afraid to take the next step forward. Chatsky is broken by the amount of old power, inflicting a mortal blow on it in turn with the quality of fresh power. He is the eternal denouncer of lies hidden in the proverb: “alone in the field is not a warrior.” No, a warrior, if he is Chatsky, and a winner at that, but an advanced warrior, a skirmisher and always a victim. Chatsky is inevitable with every change from one century to another. The position of the Chatskys on the social ladder is varied, but the role and fate are all the same, from major state and political figures who control the destinies of the masses, to a modest share in a close circle. All of them are controlled by one thing: irritation for various motives. Some, like Griboyedov’s Chatsky, have love, others have pride or love of fame - but they all get their share of “a million torments,” and no height of position can save them from it. Very few, the enlightened Chatskys, are given the comforting knowledge that they fought for a reason - albeit disinterestedly, not for themselves and not for themselves, but for the future, and for everyone, and they succeeded. In addition to large and prominent personalities, during sharp transitions from one century to another, the Chatskys live and are not transferred in society, repeating themselves at every step, in every house, where the old and the young coexist under the same roof, where two centuries come face to face in close quarters families - the struggle between the fresh and the outdated, the sick and the healthy continues, and everyone fights in duels, like Horaces and Curiatia - miniature Famusovs and Chatskys. Every business that requires updating evokes the shadow of Chatsky - and no matter who the figures are, no matter what human cause - whether it be a new idea, a step in science, in politics, in war - no matter how people group, they cannot escape anywhere from the two main ones motives for the struggle: from the advice to “learn by looking at your elders,” on the one hand, and from the thirst to strive from routine to a “free life” forward and forward, on the other. That’s why Griboyedov’s Chatsky, and with him the whole comedy, has not aged yet and is unlikely to ever grow old. And literature will not escape the magic circle drawn by Griboedov as soon as the artist touches on the struggle of concepts and the change of generations. He will either give a type of extreme, immature advanced personalities, barely hinting at the future, and therefore short-lived, of which we have already experienced many in life and in art, or he will create a modified image of Chatsky, as after Cervantes’ Don Quixote and Shakespeare’s Hamlet, endless of them appeared and are similarities In the honest, passionate speeches of these later Chatskys, Griboyedov’s motives and words will forever be heard - and if not the words, then the meaning and tone of his Chatsky’s irritable monologues. Healthy heroes in the fight against the old will never leave this music. And this is the immortality of Griboyedov’s poems! Many Chatskys could be cited - who appeared at the next change of eras and generations - in the struggle for an idea, for a cause, for truth, for success, for a new order, at all levels, in all layers of Russian life and work - loud, great things and modest armchair exploits. There is a fresh legend about many of them, others we saw and knew, and others still continue to fight. Let's turn to the literature. Let's remember not a story, not a comedy, not an artistic phenomenon, but let's take one of the later fighters with the old century, for example Belinsky. Many of us knew him personally, and now everyone knows him. Listen to his passionate improvisations - and they sound the same motives - and the same tone as Griboyedov's Chatsky. And just like that he died, destroyed by “a million torments,” killed by the fever of expectation and not waiting for the fulfillment of his dreams, which are now no longer dreams. Leaving Herzen's political delusions, where he emerged from the role of a normal hero, from the role of Chatsky, this Russian man from head to toe, let us remember his arrows thrown into various dark, remote corners of Russia, where they found the culprit. In his sarcasms one can hear the echo of Griboyedov's laughter and the endless development of Chatsky's witticisms. And Herzen suffered from “a million torments,” perhaps most of all from the torments of the Repetilovs of his own camp, to which during his lifetime he did not have the courage to say: “Lie, but know your limits!” But he did not take this word to his grave, confessing after death to the “false shame” that prevented him from saying it. Finally, one last note about Chatsky. They reproach Griboedov for saying that Chatsky is not as artistically clothed as other faces of comedy, in flesh and blood, that he has little vitality. Some even say that this is not a living person, but an abstract, an idea, a walking moral of a comedy, and not such a complete and complete creation as, for example, the figure of Onegin and other types snatched from life. It's not fair. It is impossible to place Chatsky next to Onegin: the strict objectivity of the dramatic form does not allow for the same breadth and fullness of the brush as the epic. If other faces of comedy are stricter and more sharply defined, then they owe this to the vulgarity and trifles of their natures, which are easily exhausted by the artist in light sketches. Whereas in Chatsky’s personality, rich and versatile, one dominant side could be brought out in relief in the comedy - and Griboyedov managed to hint at many others. Then - if you take a closer look at the human types in the crowd - then almost more often than others there are these honest, ardent, sometimes bilious individuals who do not meekly hide away from the oncoming ugliness, but boldly go towards it and enter into a struggle, often unequal, always to the detriment of oneself and without any visible benefit to the cause. Who didn’t know or doesn’t know, each in his own circle, such smart, ardent, noble madmen who create a kind of chaos in those circles where fate takes them, for the truth, for an honest conviction?! No, Chatsky, in our opinion, is the most living personality of all, both as a person and as a performer of the role assigned to him by Griboyedov. But we repeat, his nature is stronger and deeper than other persons and therefore could not be exhausted in comedy. Finally, let us make a few comments about the performance of comedy on stage recently, namely at Monakhov’s benefit performance, and about what the viewer could wish for from the performers. If the reader agrees that in a comedy, as we said, the movement is passionately and continuously maintained from beginning to end, then it should naturally follow that the play is highly scenic. That's what she is. Two comedies seem to be nested within one another: one, so to speak, is private, petty, domestic, between Chatsky, Sofia, Molchalin and Liza: this is the intrigue of love, the everyday motive of all comedies. When the first is interrupted, another unexpectedly appears in the interval, and the action begins again, a private comedy plays out into a general battle and is tied into one knot. Artists who reflect on the general meaning and course of the play and each in their own role will find a wide field for action. There is a lot of work involved in mastering any role, even an insignificant one, all the more so the more conscientiously and subtly the artist treats art. Some critics place the responsibility of the artists to perform the historical fidelity of the characters, with the color of the time in all details, even down to the costumes, that is, to the style of dresses, hairstyles inclusive. This is difficult, if not completely impossible. As historical types, these faces, as stated above, are still pale, and living originals can no longer be found: there is nothing to study from. It's the same with costumes. Old-fashioned tailcoats, with a very high or very low waist, women's dresses with a high bodice, high hairstyles, old caps - in all this, the characters will seem like fugitives from a crowded market. Another thing is the costumes of the last century, completely outdated: camisoles, robrons, front sights, powder, etc. But when performing “Woe from Wit,” it’s not about the costumes. We repeat that the game cannot claim historical fidelity at all, since the living trace has almost disappeared, and the historical distance is still close. Therefore, it is necessary for the artist to resort to creativity, to the creation of ideals, according to the degree of his understanding of the era and Griboyedov’s work. This is the first, that is, the main stage condition. The second is language, that is, the artistic execution of language, like the execution of an action: without this second, of course, the first is impossible. In such lofty literary works as “Woe from Wit”, like Pushkin’s “Boris Godunov” and some others, the performance should be not only stage, but the most literary, like the performance of exemplary music by an excellent orchestra, where every musical phrase must be played flawlessly and every note is in it. An actor, as a musician, is obliged to complete his performance, that is, to come up with the sound of the voice and the intonation with which each verse should be pronounced: this means to come up with a subtle critical understanding of the entire poetry of Pushkin and Griboyedov's language. In Pushkin, for example, in “Boris Godunov,” where there is almost no action, or at least unity, where the action breaks up into separate scenes not connected with each other, any other performance than a strictly artistic and literary one is impossible. In it, every other action, every theatricality, facial expressions should serve only as a light seasoning of literary performance, action in the word. With the exception of some roles, to a large extent the same can be said about “Woe from Wit”. And there is most of the game in the language: you can endure the awkwardness of facial expressions, but every word with the wrong intonation will hurt your ear like a false note. We must not forget that the public knows such plays as “Woe from Wit”, “Boris Godunov” by heart and not only follows every word with their thoughts, but senses, so to speak, with their nerves every mistake in pronunciation. They can be enjoyed without seeing them, but only by hearing them. These plays were and are often performed in private life, simply as readings between literature lovers, when there is a good reader in the circle who knows how to subtly convey this kind of literary music. Several years ago, they say, this play was presented in the best St. Petersburg circle with exemplary art, which, of course, in addition to a subtle critical understanding of the play, was greatly helped by the ensemble in tone, manners, and especially the ability to read perfectly. It was performed in Moscow in the 30s with complete success. To this day we have retained the impression of that game: Shchepkin (Famusov), Mochalov (Chatsky), Lensky (Molchalin), Orlov (Skalozub), Saburov (Repetilov). Of course, this success was greatly facilitated by the then striking novelty and boldness of the open attack from the stage on much that had not yet had time to move away, which they were afraid to touch even in the press. Then Shchepkin, Orlov, Saburov expressed typically still living likenesses of the belated Famusovs, here and there the surviving Molchalins, or hiding in the stalls behind the back of their neighbor Zagoretskys. All this undoubtedly gave enormous interest to the play, but besides this, in addition to even the high talents of these artists and the resulting typicality of the performance of each of their roles, what was striking in their performance, as in an excellent choir of singers, was the extraordinary ensemble of the entire staff of individuals, down to the smallest roles , and most importantly, they subtly understood and excellently read these extraordinary poems, with exactly the “sense, feeling and arrangement” that is necessary for them. Mochalov, Shchepkin! The latter, of course, is now known by almost the entire orchestra and remembers how, even in old age, he read his roles both on stage and in salons! The production was also exemplary - and should now and always surpass in care the staging of any ballet, because the comedy of this century will not leave the stage, even when later exemplary plays have come off. Each of the roles, even minor ones, played subtly and conscientiously, will serve as an artist’s diploma for a wide role. Unfortunately, for a long time now the performance of the play on stage does not correspond to its high merits; it does not particularly shine with either harmony in the playing or thoroughness in the staging, although separately, in the performance of some artists, there are happy hints of promises for the possibility of a more subtle and careful performance . But the general impression is that the viewer, along with the few good things, takes his “millions of torments” out of the theater. In the production it is impossible not to notice negligence and scarcity, which seem to warn the viewer that they will play weakly and carelessly, therefore, there is no need to bother about the freshness and accuracy of the accessories. For example, the lighting at the ball is so weak that you can barely distinguish faces and costumes, the crowd of guests is so thin that Zagoretsky, instead of “disappearing,” according to the text of the comedy, that is, evading somewhere into the crowd, from Khlestova’s scolding, has to run through the entire empty hall, from the corners of which, as if out of curiosity, some two or three faces peek out. In general, everything looks somehow dull, stale, colorless. In the game, instead of the ensemble, discord dominates, as if in a choir that did not have time to sing. In a new play one could assume this reason, but one cannot allow this comedy to be new to anyone in the troupe. Half of the play passes inaudibly. Two or three verses will burst out clearly, the other two are pronounced by the actor as if only for himself - away from the viewer. The characters want to play Griboyedov's poems like a vaudeville text. Some people have a lot of unnecessary fuss in their facial expressions, this imaginary, false game. Even those who have to say two or three words accompany them either with increased, unnecessary emphasis on them, or with unnecessary gestures, or even with some kind of game in their gait, in order to make themselves noticed on stage, although these two or three words , said intelligently, with tact, would be noticed much more than all bodily exercises. Some of the artists seem to forget that the action takes place in a large Moscow house. For example, Molchalin, although a poor little official, lives in the best society, is accepted in the first houses, plays cards with noble old women, and therefore is not devoid of certain decency in his manners and tone. He is “ingratiating, quiet,” the play says about him. This is a domestic cat, soft, affectionate, who wanders everywhere around the house, and if he fornicates, then quietly and decently. He cannot have such wild habits, even when he rushes to Lisa, left alone with her, that the actor playing his role has acquired for him. Most artists also cannot boast of fulfilling that important condition mentioned above, namely, correct, artistic reading. They have long been complaining that this capital condition is being increasingly removed from the Russian stage. Is it possible that along with the recitation of the old school, the ability to read and pronounce an artistic speech in general has been banished, as if this skill had become superfluous or unnecessary? One can even hear frequent complaints about some of the luminaries of drama and comedy that they don’t take the trouble to learn their roles! What then is left for the artists to do? What do they mean by playing roles? Make-up? Mimicry? Since when did this neglect of art begin? We remember both the St. Petersburg and Moscow scenes in the brilliant period of their activity, starting with Shchepkin and the Karatygins to Samoilov and Sadovsky. There are still a few veterans of the old St. Petersburg stage here, and among them the names of Samoilov and Karatygin are reminiscent of the golden time when Shakespeare, Moliere, Schiller appeared on the stage - and the same Griboedov, whom we present now, and all this was given along with a swarm of various vaudevilles, alterations from French, etc. But neither these alterations nor the vaudevilles interfered with the excellent performance of either Hamlet, Lear, or The Miser. In response to this, you hear, on the one hand, that it is as if the taste of the public has deteriorated (which public?), has turned to farce, and that the consequence of this was and is the artists’ weaning off the serious stage and serious, artistic roles; and on the other hand, that the very conditions of art have changed: from the historical type, from tragedy, high comedy - society left, as if from under a heavy cloud, and turned to bourgeois, so-called drama and comedy, and finally to the genre. An analysis of this “corruption of taste” or the modification of old conditions of art into new ones would distract us from “Woe from Wit” and, perhaps, would lead to some other, more hopeless grief. It is better to accept the second objection (the first is not worth talking about, since it speaks for itself) as an accomplished fact and allow these modifications, although we note in passing that Shakespeare and new historical dramas are also appearing on the stage, such as “The Death of Ivan the Terrible”, “ Vasilisa Melentyeva”, “Shuisky”, etc., requiring the very ability to read that we are talking about. But besides these dramas, there are other works of modern times on the stage, written in prose, and this prose, almost like Pushkin’s and Griboyedov’s poems, has its own typical dignity and requires the same clear and distinct execution as the reading of poetry. Each phrase of Gogol is just as typical and also contains its own special comedy, regardless of the general plot, just like each Griboyedov’s verse. And only a deeply faithful, audible, distinct performance throughout the hall, that is, the stage pronunciation of these phrases, can express the meaning that the author gave them. Many of Ostrovsky's plays also largely have this typical side of the language, and often phrases from his comedies are heard in colloquial speech, in various applications to life. The public remembers that Sosnitsky, Shchepkin, Martynov, Maksimov, Samoilov in the roles of these authors not only created types on stage, which, of course, depends on the degree of talent, but also with intelligent and prominent pronunciation they retained all the power of exemplary language, giving weight to each phrase , every word. Where else, if not from the stage, can one want to hear an exemplary reading of exemplary works? It seems that the public has been rightfully complaining about the loss of this literary, so to speak, performance of works of art lately. In addition to the weakness of execution in the general course, regarding the correct understanding of the play, the lack of reading skills, etc., we could also dwell on some inaccuracies in details, but we do not want to seem picky, especially since minor or particular inaccuracies resulting from negligence , will disappear if the artists take a more thorough critical analysis of the play. Let us wish that our artists, from the entire mass of plays with which they are overwhelmed by their duties, with love for art, single out works of art, and we have so few of them - and, by the way, especially “Woe from Wit” - and, compiling from they themselves have chosen a repertoire for themselves, they would perform them differently than how they perform everything else that they have to play every day, and they will certainly perform it properly.

As a critical response to Alexander Sergeevich Griboyedov’s comedy “Woe from Wit,” Ivan Aleksandrovich Goncharov creates “A Million Torments.” The summary of the article is a deep social and ideological analysis of this work. It is characteristic that the title of the article was a phrase dropped by Griboyedov’s character, Alexander Andreevich Chatsky. Thus, already when reading the title it becomes clear what will be discussed.

A comedy demanded by the era

Was this assessment given in a timely manner? Without a doubt. Russia lived in a transitional era from the capitalist era. There were no commoners yet, and yet the nobility remained the most advanced layer of society. But is it all the nobility? That is the question. The development of a huge country could no longer be stimulated either by heroes like Pushkin’s Onegin or Lermontov’s Pechorin. Article by I.A. Goncharova’s “A Million Torments” popularly and logically led its readers to this conclusion. Of course, society was in demand for a new, fresh view of society, the role of a citizen, education, and social activities. And this look was presented by the image of Alexander Andreevich Chatsky.

Chatsky's character

Chatsky’s character is not just central, but centrifugal in Goncharov’s “A Million Torments” was dedicated to an adequate, fair assessment of the meaning of this image (which simply did not exist before). The summary of the comedy is that Chatsky confronts the “old world,” intelligently and meaningfully testifying to the truth. It’s not customary to talk like that in aristocratic circles in Moscow. And an honest description of the “pillars of society” is perceived by the highest nobility as an “attack on the foundations” and sacrilege. The nobility is powerless in the face of his rhetoric; they shun him, declaring him insane.

Is this legal? Yes, and to the highest degree! Let us remember that even Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin did not understand Chatsky. The famous poet, noting the justice of the comedy hero’s statements, is at the same time perplexed: “Why is he saying all this if no one hears him” (i.e. the veiled question is clearly felt: “Isn’t Chatsky a fool?”). Dobrolyubov openly ironically treated this character - “a gambling fellow.” Since the fundamental novelty of the talentedly created image was not noticed by almost the entire society, in fact, that’s why Goncharov wrote “A Million Torments.” A brief summary of his work is an analysis of Griboyedov’s work.

So, our hero comes to aristocratic Moscow, taking time away from business, to declare his love to the young, educated and romantic Sofya Famusova, who refuses him. The plot intrigue is built on this. The girl, in turn, had already forgotten about her first feeling for him. She is driven by romantic generosity. Therefore, it cannot be said that she is as mercantile as her chosen one - her father’s mediocre and vile secretary - Alexey Stepanovich Molchalin. People who imitate activities to achieve their career aspirations are unspiritual people, capable of expressing servility and then betraying. Silent people. Goncharov dedicates “A Million Torments” to their caustic characterization. The summary of the comedy shows: they must lose. After all, the future state of the “Molchalins” is much more terrible than the state of the “Famusovs”.

Alexey Stepanovich Molchalin is the antipode of Chatsky. A cowardly, stupid, but “moderate and careful” careerist and in the future a bureaucrat. There is nothing living or natural in the image of Molchalin. But his life calculation is correct - it is precisely such people, by nature slaves, that those in power prefer to elevate, so that they can then rule unchallenged with the help of such people who do not have their own opinions.

conclusions

What is the significance of this work by Ivan Alexandrovich? It's obvious. Goncharov dedicates “A Million Torments” to an objective and worthy assessment. The summary of the article is precisely dedicated to this “ray of light in the dark kingdom.”

Goncharov's merit is that after a while he noticed an essential detail: Chatsky is active, he is capable of changing the world around him. He is a man of the future, which cannot be said about the passive dreamers Onegin and Pechorin. The image of Alexander Andreevich, despite the name of Griboyedov's comedy, is optimistic. He inspires confidence in his rightness, being a literary and figurative embodiment of the words “and one in the field is a warrior!”

The beliefs of this man are the beliefs of the Decembrist. Thus, the comedy is a kind of alarm bell for future events in Russian society that occurred on December 14, 1825 on

The comedy “Woe from Wit” stands apart in literature, distinguished by its relevance at all times. Why is this, and what is this “Woe from Wit” anyway?

Pushkin and Griboyedov are two greatest figures of art who cannot be placed close to one another. The heroes of Pushkin and Lermontov are historical monuments, but they are a thing of the past.

“Woe from Wit” is a work that appeared before Onegin and Pechorin, went through the Gogol period, and everything lives to this day with its imperishable life, will survive many more eras and will not lose its vitality.

Griboyedov's play caused a sensation with its beauty and lack of shortcomings, caustic, burning satire even before it was published. The conversation was filled with Griboyedov's sayings to the point of satiety with comedy.

This work became dear to the reader’s heart, passed from the book into living speech...

Everyone appreciates comedy in their own way: some find in it the mystery of Chatsky’s character, the controversy about which has not yet ended, others admire the living morality and satire.

“Woe from Wit” is a picture of morals, a sharp, searing satire, but above all, a comedy.

However, for us it is not yet a completely complete picture of history: we inherited something from there, although the Famusovs, Molchalins, Zagoretskys and others have changed.

Now only a little of the local color remains: passion for rank, sycophancy, emptiness. Griboedov encapsulated the living Russian mind in sharp and caustic satire. This magnificent language was given to the author in the same way as the main meaning of the comedy was given, and all this created the comedy of life.

The movement on stage is lively and continuous.

However, not everyone will be able to reveal the meaning of the comedy - “Woe from Wit” is covered with a veil of ingenious drawing, the coloring of the place, the era, the charming language, all the poetic forces that are so abundantly diffused in the play.

The main role, undoubtedly, is the role of Chatsky - a passive role, although at the same time victorious. Chatsky created a split, and if he was deceived for personal purposes, he himself splashed living water onto the dead soil, taking with him “a million torments” - torments from everything: from the “mind”, and even more from the “offended feeling”.

The vitality of Chatsky’s role does not lie in the novelty of unknown ideas: he has no abstractions. Material from the site

His ideal of a “free life”: this is freedom from these countless chains of slavery that shackle society, and then freedom - “to focus on the sciences the mind hungry for knowledge”, or to freely indulge in “the creative arts, high and beautiful” - freedom to “serve or not to serve”, to live in a village or to travel without being considered a robber - and a number of similar steps towards freedom - from unfreedom.

Chatsky is broken by the amount of old power, inflicting a fatal blow on it, in turn, by the amount of fresh power.

That’s why Griboyedov’s Chatsky, and with him the whole comedy, has not aged yet and is unlikely to ever grow old.

And this is the immortality of Griboyedov’s poems!

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Article “A Million Torments” by I.A. Goncharova is a critical review of several works at once. In response to the essay by A.S. Griboyedov “Woe from Wit”, I.A. Goncharov gives not only a literary, but also a social analysis of this work, comparing it with other great works of that era.

The main idea of the article is that great changes have been brewing in society for a long time, and people like Griboedov’s hero Chatsky will become great achievers.

Read the summary of the article Million torments of Goncharov

I.A. Goncharov calls the great comedy “Woe from Wit” the comedy that the era was waiting for. His article is a deep analysis of the socio-political life of Russia. The huge country was at the stage of transition from feudal rule to capitalist rule. The most advanced part of society were people of the noble class. It was on them that the country relied on in anticipation of change.

Among the noble educated class of Russia, as a rule, there were the fewest people like Griboyedov’s hero Chatsky. And people who could be attributed to Onegin A.S. Pushkin, or to Pechorin M.Yu. Lermontov, prevailed.

And society did not need people focused on themselves and their exclusivity, but people ready for achievements and self-sacrifice. Society needed a new, fresh vision of the world, social activities, education and the role of the citizen as a result.

Goncharov gives a comprehensive description of Chatsky’s image. He breaks the foundations of the old world, speaking the truth face to face. He seeks the truth, wants to know how to live, he is not satisfied with the morals and foundations of a respectable society, which covers up laziness, hypocrisy, lust and stupidity with decency and politeness. Everything that is dangerous, incomprehensible and beyond their control, they declare either immoral or insane. It’s easiest for them to declare Chatsky crazy - it’s easier to expel him from their little world so that he doesn’t confuse their souls and doesn’t interfere with living according to the old and so convenient rules.

This is quite natural, since even some great writers of that era treated Chatsky either condescendingly or mockingly. For example, A.S. Pushkin is perplexed why Chatsky shouts into the void, not seeing a response in the souls of those around him. As for Dobrolyubov, he condescendingly and ironically notes that Chatsky is a “gambling fellow.”

The fact that society did not accept or understand this image was the reason that Goncharov wrote the article in question.

Molchalin appears as the antipode of Chatsky. According to Goncharov, Russia, which belongs to the Molchalins, will ultimately come to a terrible end. Molchalin is a man of a special, mean-spirited nature, capable of pretending, lying, saying what his listeners are waiting for and wanting, and then betraying them.

I.A. Goncharov’s article is full of caustic criticism of the Molchalyns, cowardly, greedy, stupid. According to the author, it is precisely such people who break through to power, since they are always promoted by those in power, those who find it more convenient to rule over those who do not have their own opinion, and indeed no outlook on life as such.

Essay by I.A. Goncharov is still relevant today. It makes you involuntarily think about who is more numerous in Russia – the Molchalins or the Chatskys? Who is there more in yourself? Is it always more convenient to go ahead or, by remaining silent, pretend that you agree with everything? What is better - to live in your own warm little world or to fight injustice, which has already dulled the souls of people so much that it has long seemed to be the usual order of things? Is Sophia so wrong in choosing Molchalin - after all, he will provide her with position, honor, and peace of mind, even if bought by meanness. All these questions trouble the reader’s mind while studying the article; they are the “millions of torments” that every thinking person who fears the loss of honor and conscience goes through at least once in his life.

According to I.A. Goncharova, Chatsky is not just a mad Don Quixote, fighting with mills and causing a smile, anger, bewilderment - everything except understanding. Chatsky is a strong personality who is not so easy to silence. And he is able to evoke a response in young hearts.

The ending of the article is optimistic. His beliefs and way of thinking are consonant with the ideas of the Decembrists. His convictions are convictions that the new world, standing on the threshold of a new era, cannot do without. Goncharov sees in Griboyedov’s comedy a forerunner of new events that will take place on Senate Square in 1825.

Who will we take into our new life? Will the Molchalins and Famusovs be able to penetrate there? – the reader will have to answer these questions for himself.