Grigory Melekhov kills an Austrian, analysis of the episode. The theme of human destiny in one of the works of Russian literature

MIKHAIL ALEXANDROVICH SHOLOKHOV (1905-1984)
QUIET FON (4)

Gregory and his regiment go to the front. The first fight is coming soon. With surprise, Grigory suddenly realized that deep down in his soul he was not experiencing the feelings he should have for his enemies. People are dying all around. They die from enemy bullets, they die trampled by the horses of their own Cossacks. During the battle, Gregory kills the Austrian who shot at him. Then, in the heat of battle, Melekhov hacked to death an unarmed enemy. And this senseless death was firmly etched in his memory.

By different fronts The war has scattered the villagers: Mitka Korshunov, Mishka Koshevoy, Stepan Astakhov, and Pyotr Melekhov are fighting. A lot of blood was shed, a lot of incomprehensible things happened. “And it was like this: people collided on the field of death, who had not yet had time to break their hands in the destruction of their own kind, in the animal horror that overwhelmed them, they stumbled, knocked down, delivered blind blows, mutilated themselves and their horses and fled, frightened by the shot that killed a person, they drove away morally crippled .

They called it a feat."

The Melekhov brothers meet at the front. Grigory told his brother how he killed the enemy, although he could have saved his life, and is sick because of this. Peter warns younger brother, that Aksinya’s husband promised to shoot Gregory in the first battle. The younger Melekhov does not accept blood that is shed in vain. He is ready to kill the Cossack Chubaty because he just hacked to death a captured Hungarian.

In the summer, news of Gregory's death came to the farm. After him, the old father somehow immediately began to give up. But next letter from Peter returned hope to the old people: their youngest son was seriously wounded, accomplished a feat and received the Cross of St. George.

Aksinya, left alone, transferred all her love to her daughter, who every day more and more resembled her father. Natalya, Gregory's wife, comes to her with a request to return her husband. She kicks out her rival.

After some time, Tanyusha, the daughter of Gregory and Aksinya, fell ill with scarlet fever and died. At this time, after being wounded, Evgeny Listnitsky arrives in Yagodnoye. He feels sorry for Aksinya. “A woman’s heart is susceptible to pity and affection. Burdened with despair, Aksinya, not remembering herself, gave herself up to him...”

After being wounded, Melekhov ended up in the Snegirev eye hospital, where he met the blacksmith Andrei Garanzha, who opened his eyes to war, life and much more. Returning home, Grigory learned from the groom Sashka about Aksinya’s betrayal. Having whipped Evgeny Listnitsky and Aksinya, he returned to the farm, to Natalya.

1916 October. At the front, a conversation arises between Bunchuk, Listnitsky and other officers that the war with the Germans could develop into a civil war, and that the overthrow of the monarchy could follow. What kind of government should there be in this case? What kind of power? After the conversation, when everyone fell asleep, Yevgeny Listnitsky writes a denunciation against Bunchuk, but he cannot be detained, since he is deserting. A few days later, leaflets appeared in the trenches. A search begins, which yields nothing. Grigory Melekhov, who came on vacation after being wounded, kept catching himself admiring glances relatives and fellow villagers. “And all this complex, subtle poison of flattery, respect, admiration gradually destroyed, erased from the consciousness the seeds of the truth that Garanzha had sown in him. Grigory came from the front one person, and left another. His own, Cossack, sucked in with his mother's milk, shaken throughout his life, took precedence over the great human truth... Grigory went to the front as a good Cossack; not putting up with the senselessness of war in his soul, he honestly cherished his Cossack glory.” At the front, the mood changes from day to day. Even Chubaty began to look at the war differently. He supports Melekhov and the rebellious Cossacks when they “arrest” cabbage soup with worms.

The XII 11th Cavalry Division, after occupying Leshnyuv, fought through Stanislavchik, Radziwillov, Brody and on August 15 deployed near the town of Kamenka-Strumilovo. The army walked behind, infantry units concentrated in important strategic areas, and headquarters and convoys accumulated at the junctions. The front stretched from the Baltic like a deadly rope. Plans for a broad offensive were being developed at headquarters, generals were poring over maps, orderlies were rushing around delivering combat orders, hundreds of thousands of soldiers were going to their deaths. Intelligence reports reported that large enemy cavalry forces were converging on the city. Skirmishes broke out in the copses near the roads, and Cossack patrols came into contact with enemy reconnaissance forces. Melekhov Grigory, all the days of the campaign, after he parted with his brother, tried and could not find a fulcrum in his soul to stop in painful thoughts and regain his former even mood. With the last marching hundred, third-rankers were added to the regiment. One of them, a Cossack from the village of Kazanskaya, Alexei Uryupin, ended up in the same platoon with Grigory. Uryupin was tall, stooped, with a prominent lower jaw and Kalmyk braids of a mustache; his cheerful, fearless eyes always laughed; despite his age, he was bald, only on the sides of his bare, convex skull were sparse bushes Brown hair. From the very first day the Cossacks gave him the nickname Chubatiy. Near Brody after the battle the regiment rested for a day. Grigory stood with Chubaty in the same hut. They started talking. - You, Melekhov, are kind of faded. - How faded? - Grigory frowned. “He’s good, he seems to be sick,” Chubaty explained. They fed the horses at the hitching post and smoked, leaning against a mossy, dilapidated fence. Hussars walked four in a row along the street, uncleaned corpses lay under the fences (displacing the Austrians, they fought in the streets of the suburbs), smoke oozing from under the ruins of a burnt synagogue. Great destruction and disgusting emptiness showed the city in this late afternoon, lavishly embroidered with colors. - I'm healthy. - Grigory, without looking at Chubaty, spat. - You're lying! I see. -What do you see? -Are you timid, little fellow? Are you afraid of death? “You’re stupid,” Grigory said contemptuously and, squinting, examined his nails. - Tell me: did you kill a man? - Chubaty minted, peering inquisitively into Grigory’s face. - Killed. Well? - Wailing soul? - Ste-thread? - Grigory grinned. Chubaty pulled the saber out of its sheath. - Do you want me to cut off your head? - After? - I’ll kill and not breathe - I have no pity! - Chubaty’s eyes laughed, but Grigory understood from his voice, from the predatory flutter of his nostrils that he was speaking seriously. “You are wild and eccentric,” said Grigory, carefully examining Chubaty’s face. -Your heart is liquid. Do you know the cormorant blow? Look! Chubaty chose an elderly birch tree growing in the front garden and walked straight towards it, stooping, aiming with his eyes. His long, sinewy, excessively wide arms hung motionless. - Look! He slowly raised his saber and, crouching, suddenly terrible force threw a sideways wave. A birch tree, cut two arshins from the root, fell, catching the bare window frames with its branches, scratching the wall of the house. - Did you see it? Learn. Baklanov the ataman was there, did you hear? He had a sword - it was filled with mercury, it was hard to lift it, but he would chop the horse in half. Here! For a long time Gregory could not comprehend complex technology blow. - You are strong, but you are a fool to chop. This is how it should be,” Chubaty taught, and his saber, in oblique flight, struck the target with monstrous force. - Chop the man boldly. “He’s a soft man, like dough,” Chubaty taught, laughing with his eyes. - Don’t think about how or what. You are a Cossack, your job is to chop without asking. In battle, killing an enemy is a sacred thing. For every person you kill, God forgives you one sin, just like for a snake. You cannot destroy an animal without need - a heifer, say, or something like that - but destroy a person. He is a filthy man... Evil spirits, he stinks on the earth, he lives like a toadstool mushroom. At Grigory’s objections, he winced and stubbornly fell silent. Grigory noticed with surprise that all the horses were unreasonably afraid of Chubaty. When he approached the hitching post, the horses straightened their ears and huddled together, as if an animal was coming towards them, and not a man. Near Stanislavchik, a hundred, advancing through wooded and swampy terrain, were forced to dismount. The horse breeders took the horses and rode off into the hollow, under cover. Chubaty got the job of driving the horse, but he flatly refused. - Uryupin, why are you, bitch udder, kicking out? Why don't you take the horses? - the platoon commander flew at him. - They are afraid of me. By God! - he assured, hiding a constant chuckle in his eyes. He was never a horse breeder. He treated his horse kindly, cherished it with care, but Grigory always noticed: as soon as the owner approached the horse, out of habit, without moving his hands pressed to his hips, a wave of trembling ran down the horse’s back: the horse was worried. - Tell me, saint, why are you making the horses go crazy? - Grigory asked once. - Who knows. - Chubaty shrugged his shoulders. - I feel sorry for them. - They guess drunk people by their spirit, they are afraid, but you are solid. “My heart is strong, they sense it.” - You have a wolf’s heart, or maybe you don’t have any, a pebble has been laid in its place. “Perhaps,” Chubaty readily agreed. Near the city of Kamenka-Strumilovo, the entire third platoon with its platoon officer went on reconnaissance: the day before, the Czech defector informed the command about the deployment of Austrian units and the proposed counter-offensive along the Goroshi-Stavintsky line; constant monitoring of the road along which enemy units were expected to move was required; For this purpose, the platoon officer left four Cossacks with a platoon officer at the edge of the forest, and with the rest he went to the tiled roofs of some settlement visible behind the hill. At the edge of the forest, near the old pointed chapel with a rusty crucifix, Grigory Melekhov, the constable, and the young Cossacks - Silantiev, Chubaty and Mishka Koshevoy - remained. “Dismount, guys,” the constable ordered. - Koshevoy, take the horses over there behind these pine trees, well, yes, over there behind these pine trees, which ones are thicker. The Cossacks lay under a broken, withered pine tree, smoking: the policeman did not take his eyes off his binoculars. About ten paces away from them, an unharvested crop of wheat, which had lost its grain, was agitated. The ears, emasculated by the wind, hunched over and rustled mournfully. The Cossacks lay there for half an hour, exchanging lazy phrases. Somewhere to the right of the city, the roar of guns swayed incessantly. Gregory crawled to the grain and, choosing full ears of grain, crushing them, chewed the stale, stale grain. - No way, Austrians! - the constable exclaimed in a low voice. - Where? - Silantiev perked up. - Get out of the forest. Look right! A group of horsemen rode out from behind a distant copse. Having stopped, they looked at the field with the far protruding headlands of the forest, then they set off towards the Cossacks. - Melekhov! - the constable called. Gregory crawled to the pine tree. - Let's bring him closer and hit him with one gulp. Ready your rifles, guys! - the constable whispered feverishly. The riders, taking to the right, moved at a walk. The four lay under the pine tree in silence, losing their breath. - ...aukht, corporal! - a young sonorous voice carried by the wind. Gregory raised his head: six Hungarian hussars, in beautiful jackets embroidered with cords, were riding in a group. The one in front, on a large black horse, held a carbine in his hand and laughed quietly in a deep voice. - Croy! - the constable whispered. "Gu-gu-gak!" - the volley boomed. "Aka-ka-ka - ka-ak!" - the echo barked behind. - What are you talking about? - Koshevoy shouted in fear from behind the pines - and at the horses: - Trrrr, damned! Enraged! Damn it! - His voice sounded soberingly loud. The hussars galloped across the grain, broken and tenacious. One of them, the one who rode in front on a well-fed black horse, shot upward. The last one lagging behind, falling to the horse’s neck, looked around, holding his cap with his left hand. Chubaty jumped up first and ran, his legs tangling in his chest, holding his rifle at the ready. A hundred yards away, a fallen horse was kicking and kicking, and a Hungarian hussar stood next to it without a cap, rubbing his knee, which had been bruised in the fall. He shouted something from afar and raised his hands, looking around at his comrades galloping in the distance. All this happened so quickly that Grigory came to his senses only when Chubaty led the prisoner to a pine tree. - Shoot, warrior! - he shouted, roughly jerking the broadsword towards him. The prisoner smiled in confusion and began to fuss. He readily began to take off his belt, but his hands were noticeably trembling, and he could not unfasten the buckle. Gregory carefully helped him, and the hussar - a young, tall, plump-cheeked guy, with a tiny wart stuck to the corner of his shaved upper lip - smiled at him gratefully and nodded his head. He seemed glad that he had been freed from weapons, rummaged in his pockets, looking around at the Cossacks, took out a leather pouch and muttered something, gesturing for a smoke. “He’s treating me,” the constable smiled, while he himself felt the piece of paper in his pocket. “Light a cigarette for a stranger,” Silantiev laughed. The Cossacks rolled their cigarettes and lit a cigarette. Black pipe tobacco hit my head hard. - Where is his rifle? - the constable asked, puffing greedily. - Here she is. - Chubaty showed a stitched yellow belt from behind his back. - We need a hundred of it. At headquarters they probably need “language.” Who's going to drive, guys? - asked the constable, panting and looking around the Cossacks with salty eyes. “I’ll show you,” Chubaty volunteered. - Well, go ahead. The prisoner apparently understood and smiled a crooked, pitiful smile; Overpowering himself, he fussed, turned out his pockets and thrust the crumpled wet chocolate to the Cossacks. - Their Rusins... Rusins... niht Austrians! “He distorted his words, gesticulated funny and kept thrusting fragrant crumpled chocolate at the Cossacks. - Are there any weapons besides? - the constable asked him. - Don’t talk, we won’t understand everything. Is there a Livorvert? Is there a bang-bang? - The constable pressed the imaginary trigger. The prisoner shook his head furiously. - Do not eat! Do not eat! He willingly allowed himself to be searched, his plump cheeks trembling. Blood flowed from the torn leggings on the knee, and an abrasion was visible on the pink body. He put a handkerchief to it, winced, smacked his lips, spoke madly... His cap was left near the dead horse, he asked permission to go get a blanket, cap and notebook , it contains a photograph of his relatives. The sergeant tried in vain to understand him and hopelessly waved his hand: - Drive away. Chubaty took his horse from Koshevoy, sat down, straightening his rifle belt, and pointed with his hand: “Go, serviceman, also a warrior, edrena-matryona!” Encouraged by his smile, the prisoner smiled and, walking next to the horse, even with ingratiating familiarity clapped his palm on Chubaty’s dry shin. He sternly threw back his hand and pulled the reins, letting him go forward. - Go, damn it! Are you kidding? The prisoner hurried guiltily and walked away, already serious, often looking back at the remaining Cossacks. His whitish curls stuck out provocatively on the top of his head. This is how he remained in Gregory’s memory - an embroidered hussar jacket thrown haphazardly, whitish, raised curls and a confident, gallant gait. “Melekhov, go and unsaddle his horse,” the constable ordered and regretfully spat on the remainder of the cigarette, which was already burning his fingers. Grigory removed the saddle from the dead horse and for some reason picked up the cap that was lying nearby. He sniffed the lining, smelling the spicy smell of cheap soap and sweat. He carried a saddle and carefully held a hussar's cap in his left hand. The Cossacks, squatting near a pine tree, rummaged through their bags, examining the unprecedented shape of the saddle. “His tobacco is good, I should ask him for a cigarette,” Silantiev regretted. - Yes, that’s true, that’s true, tobacco is good. “It’s as if the azhnik is sweet, so it goes down the throat with oil...” The officer sighed at the memory and swallowed his saliva. A few minutes later, a horse’s head appeared from behind a pine tree. Chubatiy was driving back. - Well?.. - the constable jumped up in fear. - Missed it? Swinging the whip. Chubaty rode up, dismounted, stretched, stretching his shoulders. - Where is the Austrian? - the constable inquired as he approached. - Why are you bothering? - Chubatiy snapped. - He escaped... I thought of running away... - Missed it? - We drove out into the clearing, and he gasped... I cut him down. - You're lying! - Gregory shouted. - You killed him in vain! - Why are you making noise? Do you care? - Chubaty raised his icy eyes to Grigory. - How-a-ok? - Grigory slowly stood up, groping around with his bouncing hands. - Don’t go where you don’t belong! Understood? Don't go! - Chubaty repeated sternly. Tugging the rifle by the belt, Grigory quickly threw it to his shoulder. His finger jumped, missing the trigger, and his brown face looked strangely askew. - But-but! - the constable shouted threateningly, running up to Grigory. The shock preceded the shot, and the bullet, knocking down the needles from the pine trees, sang viscously and thinly. - What is this! - Koshevoy gasped. Silantiev sat there with his mouth open and remained there. The sergeant, shoving Grigory in the chest, snatched the rifle from him, only Chubaty did not change his position: he still stood with his leg outstretched, holding his belt with his left hand. - Shoot isho. “I’ll kill you!” Grigory rushed towards him. - What are you talking about?.. How is that? Do you want to go to trial, to be shot? Put down your weapons!.. - the constable yelled and, pushing Grigory away, stood between them, swinging his arms like a crucifix. “If you lie, you won’t kill!..” Chubaty laughed restrainedly, bouncing his outstretched leg. On way back, already at dusk, Grigory was the first to notice the body of a hacked man in the clearing. He galloped up, ahead of the others, holding the snoring horse, and peered: on the curly moss, with his outstretched arm thrown out far, lying flat, his face buried in the moss, a hacked man lay. The grass was dim, and the palm of the hand was yellowing like an autumn leaf. A terrifying blow, inflicted, in all likelihood, from behind, split the prisoner in two, from the shoulder obliquely to the waist. “He hit him...” the constable said dully as he drove by, glancing in fear at the white curls of the dead man, sticking out obliquely on his crooked head. The Cossacks rode in silence to the parking lot of hundreds. It was getting dark. A black cirrus cloud was driven by a breeze from the west. From somewhere in the swamp the insipid smell of moss, rusty dampness, rottenness was creeping up; the bittern hooted. The drowsy silence was interrupted by the clanking of horse harnesses, the occasional knock of a sword on a stirrup, and the crunch of pine needles under the horses' hooves. Above the clearing, the dark ore traces of the departed sun faded on the trunks of the pine trees. Chubati smoked often. The smoldering fire illuminated his thick fingers with convex black nails, tightly clutching a cigarette. A cloud floated over the forest, emphasizing and thickening the faded, indescribably sad colors of the evening thrown onto the ground.

Lesson topic:

The fate of Grigory Melekhov based on the work of M. Sholokhov in the novel “Quiet Don”.

Show inevitability tragic fate Grigory Melekhov, the connection of this tragedy with the fate of society.

Development of independence in the cognitive activity of students.

1. Grigory Melekhov in search of the truth.

1) The origins of character are in family history, in genetic qualities - hard work, pride, courage, in the desire for freedom.

2) An attempt to find meaning in the battles of the First World War and disappointment, loss of a foothold (the murder of an Austrian).

3) Conviction in the truth of Garanji’s “truth”. Etching her, going to the front as a “good Cossack.”

4) The desire to find the truth during social-class battles is the source of G. Melekhov’s tragedy. “Who should I lean against? Gregory’s tossing and turning between “red” and “white” is evidence not of political vacillation, but of sincere attempts to find the “real “truth”.

5) Aksinya and Natalya (love-passion for Aksinya and love for family, wife, children) - a reflection of his search for the truth, the true path.

Teacher:

Let us repeat what main works he wrote and list the main regalia.

Student message:

Teacher:

Years of life 1905 - 1984. Academician of the ANSSSR (1939), twice Hero of Socialist Labor (1967, 1980), laureate Nobel Prize(1965).

1925 - “Nakhalenok”;

1926 - “Don Stories”;

1928 – “Quiet Don” (1 – 2 books);

1929 – “ Quiet Don"(Book 3);

1932 – “Virgin Soil Upturned” (1 book), Lenin Prize;

1937 – 1940 “Quiet Don”, State Prize;

1959 – 1960 “Virgin Soil Upturned” (book 2);

1943 - 1944 “They fought for their homeland”;

1957 “The Fate of Man”;

Lesson topic: The fate of Grigory Melekhov.

At the center of Sholokhov’s narrative are several families, representatives of the Don Cossacks. This is no coincidence. The patterns of the era are revealed not only in historical events, but also in facts privacy, family relationships, where the power of tradition is especially strong, and any breakdown gives rise to acute, dramatic conflicts.

Who are the Cossacks?

Student message:

The Cossacks are defined as a military class in Russia in the 18th century and early 20th century. In the 14th – 17th centuries, these were free people who worked for hire, people who carried out border service. In the 15th and 16th centuries, self-governing communities of free Cossacks arose, mainly from runaway peasants. These communities were located outside the borders of Russia, on its outskirts - on the Dnieper, Don, and Ural. It was the Cossacks who were the main driving force popular uprisings.

The government tried not to quarrel with the Cossacks, turning them into a privileged class, using them to protect borders and pacify riots.

In 1916, the Cossack population was 4 million people, 63 million dessiatines. 300,000 Cossacks fought in the First World War. The Cossacks were a relatively isolated class, distinguished by a desire for independence, a kind of isolation, love of freedom, hard work, a certain conservatism and even reactionaryness, discipline, and reverence for elders. That is, the Cossacks were a unique ethnic group, with their own habits, customs, and language.

Teacher:

History does not stand still. Some events are constantly happening that affect the life of the country. Changes are taking place in public life. And these changes most directly affect the destinies of people. In society, there are usually two camps that are opposed to each other. Some people support one side, some the other. But there are people who cannot take either side. Their fate is tragic. Basically these are people who are deeper and more complex, honest and conscientious.

It is the fate of such a person that is depicted in the novel - the epic “Quiet Don”.

The origins of character are in family history, in genetic qualities - hard work, pride, courage, in the desire for freedom.

Teacher:

Who is Grigory Melekhov? Tell us about the origin of this genus. About how he lived in his father's house.

Student message:

The fate of the Melekhov family begins with the acute dramatic beginning of the story of Prokofy Melekhov, who amazed the farmers with an outlandish act. WITH Turkish war he brought his Turkish wife. He loved her, in the evenings, when the dawns were fading, he carried her in his arms to the top of the mound... he sat down next to her, and so they looked at the steppe for a long time. There was a bad harvest that year. They considered her a witch and decided to kill her. Although Prokofy came out with a sword and killed the Cossack, he was unable to protect him. She gave birth to Pantelei, and she herself died. Having raised Pantelei alone, he married him to a Cossack neighbor. Gregory inherited a proud and independent character from his ancestors.

Student message:

Life in my father's house. Gregory was not yet married. The Melekhov family was reputed to be strong. Hard-working. We get to know them when they are mowing or fishing. The earth attracted them. Their main values ​​are benevolence, generosity, and most importantly, hard work. In the Cossack environment, a person was valued in relation to work. “He’s a great groom,” Natalya’s mother says about Gregory, and their family is very hard-working.” “A hard-working family with plenty, the Melekhovs are glorious Cossacks,” Grishak’s grandfather echoes. In his heart, Miron Grigorievich liked Grishka for his Cossack prowess, for his love of farming and work.

Student message:

Teacher:

Grigory Melekhov - bright personality, unique individuality, whole, extraordinary nature. He is sincere and honest in his actions (this is especially evident in his attitude towards Aksinya and Natalya). What attracted Aksinya to you ( married woman) Gregory?

Student message:

The beginning of love for Aksinya.

When Aksinya was 17 years old, her 50th father raped her and threatened to kill her if she let slip. She ran home and told her brother and mother. They came to the arable land and beat him to death. A year later, Stepan wooed her, he could not forgive her for not being honest and beat her so that the bruises were not visible. He himself began to get confused with the walking zhalmerls. Her first child died. One day Grigory was watering his horse and stood across the road, flirting with Aksinya. She saw with horror that she was drawn to the “black, affectionate guy.” He courted her persistently. She saw that he was not afraid of Stepan, she felt in her gut that he would not give up on her.

Student message:

Skirmish with Stepan.

Student message:

Matchmaking and marriage to Natalya.

Student message:

Care with Aksinya.

Teacher:

Always remaining honest, morally independent and straightforward in character, Gregory proves himself to be a person capable of action.

An attempt to find meaning in the battles of the First World War and disappointment, loss of a foothold (the murder of an Austrian).

The formation of Gregory's views begins with the First World War. Gregory is drafted into the army.

Teacher:

How does Gregory behave in war? Tell us the episode (the murder of an Austrian).

Student message:

Austria ran along the garden railing. Melekhov caught up with him, “inflamed by the madness that was happening all around, he raised his saber,” and lowered it onto the temple of an unarmed soldier. “Longened by fear,” his face “turned cast iron black,” “the skin hung like a red flap,” and blood fell in a crooked stream. Gregory met the Austrian's gaze. The eyes, filled with mortal horror, looked at him deathly. Squinting his eyes, Grigory waved his saber. The blow with a long pull split the skull in two. The Austrian fell. The details of this fuss are scary. They don't let Gregory go. He, “without knowing why,” approached the Austrian soldier he had hacked to death. “He was lying there, Grigory was looking into his face. It seemed small to him, almost childish”...

Grigory, stumbling, went to the horse. His step was confused and heavy, as if he was carrying an unbearable baggage on his shoulders. Anger and bewilderment crumpled my soul. Creepy picture will stand before Gregory’s eyes for a long time.

When he meets his brother, he confesses. “I, Petro, have lost my soul. I cut down a man in vain and I am sick because of him, a vile soul.

Student message:

Sholokhov in the novel shows the whole truth about the war. Russian warriors hung corpses on wire fences. German artillery mows down entire regiments. The wounded crawl through the stubble.

Several weeks of war passed. Grigory watched with interest the changes taking place in his comrades. They grew old before our eyes, became wild, became obscene, and went crazy. The changes in Gregory himself were striking; he was “bent by the war, sucked the color from his face, “painted him with bile.” And inside he became completely different. “He firmly guarded the Cossack honor, seized the opportunity to show selfless courage, took risks, acted extravagantly, went behind enemy lines, felt that the pain for a person that oppressed him in the first days of the war was gone forever. The heart has hardened. He was known as brave and received the St. George Cross *.

Student message:

Getting to know the heroes of the novel, we will notice each of them has their own ability to experience and comprehend the war, but everyone will feel the “monstrous absurdity of war”. Through the eyes of the Cossacks we will see “how the ripened bread was trampled by the cavalry”, how a hundred “crumpled the bread with iron horseshoes”. Everyone, looking at the unharvested banks of wheat, remembered their tithes and “hardened their hearts.”

Conviction in the truth of Garanji’s “truth”. Etching her, going to the front as a “good Cossack.”

Student message:

While Gregory was in the army, he was of the opinion of the majority of his colleagues that he was satisfied with the real order in the country. He believed that the Cossacks did not need any guardians: neither Kornilov, nor Kerensky, nor Lenin, that the Cossacks should live their own lives. But, having been wounded, he ends up in a hospital, where he meets the machine gunner Garanzha. This meeting made a revolution in the hero’s soul, forcing him to reconsider all his views.

How did Garanzha influence Gregory’s views?

The desire to find the truth during social and class battles is the source of the tragedy of Grigory Melekhov.

The desire to find the truth during social-class battles is the source of G. Melekhov’s tragedy. “Who should I lean against? Gregory’s tossing and turning between “red” and “white” is evidence not of political vacillation, but of sincere attempts to find the “real “truth”.

Teacher:

The desire to find the truth during social class battles is the source of the tragedy of Grigory Melekhov.

Student message:

Teacher:

Tell the episode of the massacre of Chernetsov and the prisoners (volume 2, part 5, chapter 12).

Student message:

Grigory watched as Podtelkov, in the heat of the moment, killed the captive Chernetsy and ordered all the captured officers to be cut down. Grigory was disgusted by this scene.

Student message:

Wounded, he returned to his home, he was overwhelmed by thoughts (volume 2, part 5, chapter 13). The lieutenant with the most beautiful feminine eyes ran, clutching his head in his hands. Two men cut down the tall captain. He screamed like a child. His face was slashed with sabers. The fatigue acquired during the war also broke him. I wanted to turn away from everything seething with hatred, hostile and incomprehensible world. There, behind, everything was confused and contradictory. It was difficult to find the right path: as if in a muddy path, the soil clogged under your feet, the path became fragmented, and there was no certainty whether he was following the right one. He was drawn to the Bolsheviks - he walked, led others along with him, and then he began to think, his heart grew cold. “Who should I lean against?” But when I imagined how to prepare harrows for spring, weave a manger out of redwood, and when the earth strips and dries, it will go out into the steppe, follow the plow, my soul warmed. I wanted to clean up the cattle, throw the hay, breathe in the withered smell of sweet clover, wheatgrass, I wanted peace and silence.

Student message:

Execution of Podtelkov.

The captured Red Army soldiers began to be beaten. The old men, enraged at the sight of their unarmed enemies, drove their horses at them, hanging from their saddles and beating them with whips and swords. They shouted:

Shoot!

To death penalty!

Shoot, of course!

And hang Podtelkov! During Podtelkov's execution, Grigory confronted Podtelkov. He asked: why are you shooting your brothers? Turned around? Do you serve both ours and yours? Grigory, breathless, asked: Do you remember how, according to your order, they shot? You're not the only one to chop other people's skins!

Aksinya and Natalya (love-passion for Aksinya and love for his family, wife, children) are a reflection of his search for the truth, the true path.

Teacher:

In revealing the image of Gregory, special role plays his attitude towards women.

Tell us about Gregory’s attitude towards Aksinya and Natalya.

Student message:

Love for Aksinya is love - passion. They were drawn to each other. Aksinya was not ashamed of this love. She proudly bore her “happy but shameful head.” But Gregory is also drawn to her, despite the fact that he had a house, family, children, wife great importance in his life.

Arouses deep sympathy - Natalya is Gregory’s wife. Natalia is the embodiment of home and family. Her integrity - purity, devotion - are described by Sholokhov with love. Natalya’s feeling is transferred to her children and relatives. If at the beginning of the novel we see how cold Grigory is with her, then later on it’s the other way around. Natalya amazed him with some kind of inner beauty and purity. He becomes attached to her. And when Natalya died, Grigory was very worried about this death, considering himself and Aksinya to blame for this.

Teacher:

The unhappy personal life of the heroes. Gregory was left alone. Aksinya also died. “Dead from horror, Grigory realized that it was all over, that the worst thing that could happen in his life had already happened.

But life goes on. Last scene: Gregory stands “at the gates of his home,” holding his son in his arms. Here, in my father's house, on native land, all the beginnings and all the ends of life.

The creative merit of M. Sholokhov is the depiction of the search for truth by a “simple” person, honest, sincere, the transmission of the movements of the soul of such a person. The image of Gregory as a concentration of the main historical and ideological conflict of the novel, an expression of the tropical search for the truth of the entire people.

Introduction

The fate of Grigory Melekhov in the novel “Quiet Don” by Sholokhov becomes the focus of the reader’s attention. This hero, who by the will of fate found himself in the midst of difficult historical events, for many years I have been forced to find my own path in life.

Description of Grigory Melekhov

Already from the first pages of the novel, Sholokhov introduces us to the unusual fate of grandfather Grigory, explaining why the Melekhovs are outwardly different from the rest of the inhabitants of the farm. Gregory, like his father, had “a drooping kite nose, in slightly slanting slits there were bluish almonds of hot eyes, sharp slabs of cheekbones.” Remembering the origin of Pantelei Prokofievich, everyone in the farmstead called the Melekhovs “Turks.”
Life changing inner world Gregory. His appearance also changes. From a carefree, cheerful guy, he turns into a stern warrior whose heart has hardened. Gregory “knew that he would no longer laugh as before; knew that his eyes were sunken and his cheekbones were sticking out sharply,” and in his gaze “a light of senseless cruelty began to shine through more and more often.”

At the end of the novel, a completely different Gregory appears before us. This is a mature man, tired of life, “with tired squinting eyes, with the reddish tips of a black mustache, with premature gray hair at the temples and hard wrinkles on the forehead.”

Characteristics of Gregory

At the beginning of the work, Grigory Melekhov is a young Cossack living according to the laws of his ancestors. The main thing for him is farming and family. He enthusiastically helps his father with mowing and fishing. He is unable to contradict his parents when they marry him to the unloved Natalya Korshunova.

But, for all that, Gregory is a passionate, addicted person. Contrary to his father's prohibitions, he continues to go to night games. He meets Aksinya Astakhova, his neighbor’s wife, and then leaves his home with her.

Gregory, like most Cossacks, is characterized by courage, sometimes reaching the point of recklessness. He behaves heroically at the front, participating in the most dangerous forays. At the same time, the hero is not alien to humanity. He is worried about a gosling he accidentally killed while mowing. For a long time suffers because of the murdered unarmed Austrian. “By obeying his heart,” Grigory saves his sworn enemy Stepan from death. He goes against an entire platoon of Cossacks, defending Franya.

In Gregory, passion and obedience, madness and gentleness, kindness and hatred coexist at the same time.

The fate of Grigory Melekhov and his path of quest

The fate of Melekhov in the novel “Quiet Don” is tragic. He is constantly forced to look for a “way out,” the right road. It's not easy for him in the war. His personal life is also complicated.

Like the beloved heroes of L.N. Tolstoy, Grigory goes through a difficult path life's quest. At the beginning, everything seemed clear to him. Like other Cossacks, he is called up for war. For him there is no doubt that he must defend the Fatherland. But, getting to the front, the hero understands that his whole nature is opposed to murder.

Grigory moves from white to red, but even here he will be disappointed. Seeing how Podtyolkov deals with captured young officers, he loses faith both in this power and in next year again finds himself in the white army.

Tossing between the whites and the reds, the hero himself becomes embittered. He loots and kills. He tries to forget himself in drunkenness and fornication. In the end, fleeing the persecution of the new government, he finds himself among the bandits. Then he becomes a deserter.

Grigory is exhausted from tossing and turning. He wants to live on his land, raise bread and children. Although life hardens the hero and gives his features something “wolfish,” in essence, he is not a killer. Having lost everything and not having found his way, Grigory returns to his native farm, realizing that, most likely, death awaits him here. But a son and a home are the only things that keep the hero alive.

Gregory's relationship with Aksinya and Natalya

Fate sends the hero two passionate loving women. But Gregory’s relationship with them is not easy. While still single, Grigory falls in love with Aksinya, the wife of Stepan Astakhov, his neighbor. Over time, the woman reciprocates his feelings, and their relationship develops into unbridled passion. “So unusual and obvious was their crazy connection, they burned so frantically with one shameless flame, people without conscience and without hiding, losing weight and blackening their faces in front of their neighbors, that now for some reason people were ashamed to look at them when they met.”

Despite this, he cannot resist his father’s will and marries Natalya Korshunova, promising himself to forget Aksinya and settle down. But Gregory is unable to keep his vow to himself. Although Natalya is beautiful and selflessly loves her husband, he gets back together with Aksinya and leaves his wife and parental home.

After Aksinya's betrayal, Grigory returns to his wife again. She accepts him and forgives past grievances. But he was not destined for peace family life. The image of Aksinya haunts him. Fate brings them together again. Unable to bear the shame and betrayal, Natalya has an abortion and dies. Grigory blames himself for the death of his wife and experiences this loss cruelly.

Now, it would seem, nothing can stop him from finding happiness with the woman he loves. But circumstances force him to leave his place and, together with Aksinya, set off on the road again, the last for his beloved.

With the death of Aksinya, Gregory's life loses all meaning. The hero no longer has even a ghostly hope for happiness. “And Grigory, dying of horror, realized that it was all over, that the worst thing that could happen in his life had already happened.”

Conclusion

In conclusion of my essay on the topic “The Fate of Grigory Melekhov in the novel “Quiet Don””, I want to fully agree with critics who believe that in “Quiet Don” the fate of Grigory Melekhov is the most difficult and one of the most tragic. Using the example of Grigory Sholokhov, he showed how the whirlpool of political events breaks human destiny. And the one who sees his destiny in peaceful work suddenly becomes a cruel killer with a devastated soul.

Work test

Epic novel by M.A. Sholokhov's "Quiet Don" tells about the most difficult time in the history of Russia, huge social upheavals among the Kuban Cossacks. The usual way of life collapsed, destinies were distorted and broken, devalued human life. Sholokhov himself characterized his work as “an epic novel about a national tragedy.” Indeed, there is none actor in a novel that would not be affected by the grief and horrors of war. However, the author does not give an unambiguous assessment of the events taking place; he gives this right to the heroes and readers. It is no coincidence that opinions about author's position in the novel "Quiet Don". Critics also talk about Sholokhov’s glorification of the growing wave of the revolution, its strength and power, the frenzy that took possession of the people, and at the same time that Sholokhov was one of the first to see a threat to man in the preceding war and the revolution itself, and expressed this thought with extraordinary brightness in the tragic figure of Grigory Melekhov.

“Quiet Flows the Flow” shows how war corrupts the souls of people and kills everything human in them. Grigory tells his brother: “I, Petro, have lost my soul... It’s as if I’ve been under millstones, they crushed me and spat me out.” Modern warfare gives rise to cruelty and madness, melancholy and bewilderment. The contrast to Grishaka’s grandfather’s memories of how he did not “cut down” the Turkish officer is Gregory’s murder of a Hungarian soldier.

The death scene always attracts attention, even if it happens on the battlefield, not being, at first glance, something surprising. An act such as murder makes our soul tremble all the more. Therefore, a lot in Gregory is revealed by the episode of his murder of a person, albeit an enemy, but, above all, a person.

There is nothing remarkable in the description of the Hungarian’s appearance, but in his behavior one immediately notices the determination and irrevocability with which he moves towards the enemy. The only goal facing him is to kill the enemy. Ruthlessness, cruel and insane courage - this is what guides people during battle. This is precisely what pushes Gregory to commit murder, which he would never have committed in peacetime. It’s scary that murder in war ceases to be a crime; all moral norms lose meaning there. Sholokhov does not avoid naturalistic details in order to convey to the reader the full horror of what happened: “He slowly bent his knees, a gurgling wheeze was buzzing in his throat. Frowning, Grigory waved his saber. The blow with a long pull split the skull in two. The Hungarian fell, his arms bristling, as if he had slipped; the half of the skull thumped dully against the stone of the pavement...” This is the result of a person’s life. Only the remark “frowning” speaks about Gregory’s feelings at this moment. Awareness of what has been done and mental anguish will come later. A talented writer is always a psychologist. And Sholokhov subtly understands that a person cannot immediately comprehend the fact that he has become a murderer. But then the insight will be all the more acute and painful. Grigory will not forget the man he killed for a long time: “... and even in his sleep, burdened with memories, he felt the convulsion of his right hand, clutching the shaft of the pike, waking up and waking up, he drove away sleep from himself, covering his painfully closed eyes with his palm.” “Blindness and bewilderment crumpled the soul” of Gregory. “My conscience is killing me,” he says, “I cut down a man in vain and because of him, the bastard, my soul is sick. I dream at night, you bastard. Am I to blame? The last question is indeed a very difficult one. Is the soldier who was sent to kill to blame for the war? If we talk in historical, social categories, then, of course, no. He was given a task, and he fulfills it. But why doesn’t the killer leave the pangs of conscience, the thought that it is a sin to take a person’s life?! Moral laws, the divine commandments turn out to be stronger in Gregory than the social ones, since his soul does not stop hurting from the evil he has done.

Thus, the scene of the murder of the Hungarian contains an important idea, which is key to understanding the entire novel. great tragedy for any country and any people is a war in which people must, contrary to their nature, kill people, regardless of their nationality and religion. But it seems even more terrible Civil War, where brothers go to destroy brothers. An episode from the First World War seems to precede the description of fratricides during the civil war. Sholokhov shows how the hero’s soul begins to writhe, where are the origins of Grigory Melekhov’s life drama. If we comprehend the lessons of “The Quiet Don” on a national scale, then one thing is obvious: there cannot be a bright future for people who are accustomed to killing. Generations must change so that the dead stop coming in their dreams and people can learn to enjoy life again.