Preparation for the Unified State Exam in Russian - examples of essays. Write an essay based on this text

In the outskirts of our village there was a long room made of planks on stilts. I heard music here for the first time - violin. Vasya the Pole played it. What was the music telling me? About something very big. What was she complaining about? Who were you angry with? I'm worried and sad. I want to cry because I feel sorry for myself, I feel sorry for those who are sleeping soundly in the cemetery / Vasya, without ceasing to play, said: “This music was written by a man who was deprived of the most precious thing. If a person has no mother, no father, but has a homeland, he is not yet an orphan. Everything passes: love, regret about it, the bitterness of loss, even the pain from wounds - but the longing for the homeland never goes away and does not go away. This music was written by my fellow countryman Oginsky. I wrote it at the border, saying goodbye to my homeland. He sent her his last regards. The composer has not been in the world for a long time, but his pain, his melancholy, his love for his native land, which no one can take away, is still alive.” “Thank you, uncle,” I whispered. “For what, boy?” - “Because I’m not an orphan.” With rapturous tears I thanked Vasya, this night world, the sleeping village, and also the sleeping forest behind it. At these moments there was no evil for me. The world was kind and lonely just like me. Music sounded in me about the ineradicable love for the homeland! The Yenisei, which does not sleep even at night, the silent village behind me, the grasshopper working with all its might against the autumn in the nettles cast with metal - this was my homeland... Many years have passed. And then one day at the end of the war I stood near the cannons in a Polish city. There was a smell of burning and dust all around. And suddenly, in the house located across the street from me, the sounds of an organ were heard. This music stirred up memories. I once wanted to die from incomprehensible sadness and delight after listening to Oginsky’s polonaise. But now the same music that I listened to as a child has been refracted and turned to stone in me, especially the part that once made me cry. The music, just like on that distant night, grabbed you by the throat, but did not squeeze out tears, did not sprout pity. She called somewhere, forced them to do something so that these fires would go out, so that people would not huddle in burning basements, so that the sky would not throw up explosions. Music ruled over the city, numb with grief, the same music that, like the sigh of his land, was kept in his heart by a man who had never seen his homeland and had been yearning for it all his life. (According to V. Astafiev).

Russian language 11th grade

“Verb features” - General grammatical meaning. Morphological features of the verb: aspect, mood, tense, number, person. Past tense. At the end of verbs after consonants it is written ь. Variably conjugated verbs. Present and future tense. Perfective verbs are formed from imperfective verbs. Reflexive verbs. The concept of a verb. Person and number of the verb. Infinitive. The verb is in the imperative mood. Conjugation of verbs.

“One-part incomplete sentences” - Two-part sentences. One-part sentences. Crossword. Potebnya A. A. Sentences with the main member. Determine what these sentences are. Types of one-part sentences. We analyze the text. Knowledge of one-part and incomplete sentences. Determine the way to express the predicate. Incomplete sentences. Offers. Buslaev F. I.

“Grammar rules” - He took her hands and put a ring on her finger. Five tomatoes or tomatoes. Declension of ordinal and cardinal numbers. Correct forms of words. Speech culture is a section of linguistics devoted to norms. Lesson objectives. Formation of comparative and superlative adjectives. The numeral OBA has two forms of gender. A grammatically correct continuation of the sentence. Which sentence does not have a grammatical error.

“Essay-reasoning on the Unified State Exam” - Semantic integrity. Problems posed by the author. A comment. Essay plan. Author's position. Problems of choosing a book to read. Argumentation. Evaluation criteria. Types of speech. Methods of preparation for writing an argumentative essay. The problem of moral values. Vocabulary work.

“B2 in Russian” - System of parts of speech. Write down the numbers of sentences with derived prepositions. Indicate errors in identifying the highlighted parts of speech. Complete the tasks. Read the sentences, indicate the parts of speech. Frequency examples of functional parts of speech. Basic particles. A preposition connects words in a phrase. Basic unions. Interjections. Write down the offer numbers. Characteristics of a word as a part of speech. Distribute grammatical features.

“Tasks in the Russian language for the Unified State Exam” - Structure of the workbook. Correct grammatical errors. Workbook on the Russian language to prepare for the Unified State Exam. Efficiency. Comment on the problem. Practical work. Read the text. Productivity. Evaluation paper. Simple sentence. Preparing students for the Unified State Exam. Grammar basis.

Silently we climbed up the path to the platform from which there was an open view of Jerusalem. And again, without agreeing, we stopped - these lights on the dark distant hills attracted our attention and did not let go.

“Take a deep breath,” the old man said without moving. - Do you smell the sage? These faded lilac flowers on the bushes are Judas sage. And there, down the slope, grow myrtle bushes interspersed with white cistus. Biblical incense was extracted from this plant. Breathe in, breathe deeply, feel this hot, fragrant darkness...

Imagine, this is exactly what it smelled like here at night, when the monks of Qumran put their scrolls in huge jars and left them in the caves, here, two steps away from us. What were they hoping for? That someday we will read their prayers, feel their anger, their goodness? “He sighed and said with indescribable love in his voice: “Wonderful!”

What's beautiful? - I asked irritably.

And this air, and these hills... Admire life. I waved it off grimly. He paused.

The wind plowed open and plowed the silver olive trees on the hillside. The plump cunts of their hollows gleamed black in the darkness. Diamond chips of fire sprinkled the hills of Jerusalem.

“Know how to enjoy life,” he repeated. “If you only knew how tenderly soap made from human fat smells... Such a subtle and at the same time strong smell,” he continued, “that if I opened a box here - such an elegant ceramic box - then you could smell this delicate smell ten steps away...

I held a box of this soap in my hands when we liberated Ravensbrück... And since then I have not tolerated any perfume smell. For me it is the smell of death. Do you understand? Neither my wife nor my daughter, poor things, ever wear perfume because of me...

So, my friend, learn to enjoy life, no matter how idiotic it may look, no matter how sweaty and vulgar it may reek...

(According to D. Rubina)

INDEPENDENT WORK WITH TEXT

We offer several texts for independent work. Try to write two versions of an essay for each text. To do this, find two different problems and use the proposed algorithm.

Text No.1

If you look at the life of mankind from the heights of history, you can see one paradoxical fact. All the grief and evil on earth, all the streams of shed blood and tears, all disasters and suffering are often the result of the desire to do good, give people happiness, realize some sacred principles by creating a new state, changing the political system and etc.

This paradox is highlighted in the flames of all revolutions, counter-revolutions, civil wars, and appears in all violent attempts to realize any absolute truths of the socio-political system.

What follows from this? - they will ask us. Do you preach Tolstoy's non-resistance to evil, the negation of the state, all coercion, or even all politics in general?

No, the state, political power, coercion - all this is a necessity, without which it is, so to speak, impossible for a person to breathe. All this is a prerequisite for human life, and therefore a condition for a good and meaningful life. On the other hand, from the point of view of the deep meaning of life, all this is only secondary. Our life requires some kind of state to regulate it, some kind of legal order to suppress criminal actions. And among these systems and orders there are better and worse, those that are built more firmly and more shaky, more correctly or more erroneously, in greater or lesser accordance with the needs of life and with the spiritual nature of man. But all the details and particulars in them are relative, determined by the conditions of time and place, the way of human life, the habits and way of thinking of people. Therefore, in no particular political order there is either absolute good or absolute evil. All this is not the subject that gives the spiritual life of a person genuine truth, which reveals its true meaning. I don't I can live for no political, social, public order. I do not believe that absolute goodness and absolute truth can be found in him, whatever they may be. And attempts to embody the ideals of goodness and truth by changing the state structure, by war, by any political violence in general seem naive to me.

(According to S. L. Frank)

Text No. 2

Does our life have meaning, and if so, what kind of meaning?

Or is life simply a worthless process of natural birth, maturation, withering and death of an organic being? Should a person even seek meaning in his own life? These, as they usually say, “damned” questions, or rather, this single question about the “meaning of life,” worries and torments in the depths of the soul of every person. A person can forget about it for a long time. plunge headlong into everyday worries, but life is so arranged that even the most stubborn or spiritually asleep person cannot brush it off forever.

The iron fact of the approach of aging and disappearance is for each of us a constant reminder of the unresolved question about the meaning of life, which was put aside from a young age.

But, in spite of everything, the vast majority of people consider it necessary to brush aside this issue, to hide from it. They call this position a “principled refusal” to attempt to resolve “intractable issues.” This makes life easier for people. They strive to “settle in life,” to obtain the blessings of life, to establish themselves and strengthen themselves in the struggle of life. The desire for prosperity, for everyday well-being seems to them a meaningful, very important matter, and searching for answers to “abstract” questions seems like a meaningless waste of time. And so life is busy with multi-colored earthly interests and even has luck in their implementation. But I want to ask: will this be enough for a person, will he be happy with this? Perhaps, over the course of our lives, this issue will be resolved for each of us by itself and it is not worth making useless efforts to consider it? It still seems to me that finding an answer to this question is much more important for a person than looking for a piece of bread to satisfy hunger. The longer we put it off, the deeper the abyss in which our soul will find itself will be.

(According to S. Frank)

Text No. 3

In the outskirts of our village there was a long room made of planks on stilts. I For the first time in my life I heard music here - a violin. Vasya the Pole played it. What was the music telling me? About something very big. What was she complaining about, who was she angry with? I'm worried and sad. I want to cry because I feel sorry for myself, I feel sorry for those who sleep soundly in the cemetery! Vasya, without ceasing to play, said: “This music was written by a man who was deprived of his most precious thing. If a person has no mother, no father, but has a homeland, he is not yet an orphan. Everything passes: love, regret about it, the bitterness of loss, even the pain of wounds. but the longing for the homeland never goes away and does not go away. This music was written by my fellow countryman Oginsky. I wrote it at the border, saying goodbye to my homeland. He sent her his last greetings. The composer has long been gone from the world, but his pain, his melancholy, his love for his native land, which no one can take away, is still alive.”

“Thank you, uncle,” I whispered. “For what, boy?” - “Because I’m not an orphan.” With rapturous tears I thanked Vasya, this night world, the sleeping village, and also the sleeping forest behind it. At these moments there was no evil for me. The world was kind and lonely just like me. Music sounded in me about the ineradicable love for the homeland! Yeni-sey, not sleeping even at night, a silent village behind my back, a grasshopper working with its last strength against the autumn in nettles that shimmer with metal - this was my homeland... Many years have passed. And then one day at the end of the war I stood near the cannons in a destroyed Polish city. There was a smell of burning and dust all around. And suddenly, in the house located across the street from me, the sounds of an organ were heard. This music stirred up memories. I once wanted to die from incomprehensible sadness and delight after listening to Oginsky’s polonaise. But now the same music that I listened to as a child has been refracted in me and turned to stone, especially that part of it that once made me cry. The music, just like on that distant night, grabbed the throat, but did not squeeze out tears, did not sprout pity. She called somewhere, forced them to do something so that these fires would go out, so that people would not huddle in burning ruins, so that the sky would not throw up explosions. Music ruled over the city, numb with grief, the same music that, like the sigh of his land, was kept in the heart of a man who had been yearning for it all his life.

(According to V. Astafiev)

Text No. 4

Chekhov once said: “You want me, portraying horse thieves, to say: horse theft is evil, but let the jury judge them, and my job is only to show what they are.” He was right. Moral teachings and assessments of the author can only spoil a work of art, novel or drama. Do you know why?

The reader or viewer often seeks in a work of art a kind of refuge where he can feel free from the obligation to act and judge those who act in the artistic world. The reader wants to see the “flow of life” in the work, and not its smug critical analysis from a moral position, more or less strict. Therefore, there is no obvious morality, otherwise the author will fail.

But this does not mean that a work of art is devoid of moral force and does not contain hidden morality. The author has a certain concept of the world, which is revealed through events and characters. Tolstoy does not say in “War and Peace” or in “Anna Karenina” that such and such a way of life is immoral, but Pierre Bezukhov and Levin say this, but the reader himself often sees the depravity of the actions of certain heroes.

Chekhov himself also had moral principles that are well known to us. He expressed them directly in his letters, and indirectly in his live plays and stories. Often these principles were expressed not even through the speeches of the heroes, but were pronounced by the very “flow of life” in Chekhov’s works. It is a fact that after reading a great novel or watching a wonderful play, we become better, kinder, more compassionate and feel purified. We have experienced passions: we have realized that time

smooths out, erases everything in the world, we saw how insignificant our everyday misfortunes are in comparison with the immensity of events and the tragedy of great suffering. We have learned to recognize other people as our brothers. Without thinking about morality, we became more moral.

(According to A. Maurois)

Text No. 5

It must be said that in Rus', if we have not yet kept up with foreigners in some other respects, we have far surpassed them in handling skills. It is impossible to count all the shades and subtleties of our appeal. A Frenchman or a German will not understand and will not understand all its features and differences; he will speak with almost the same voice and the same language both to a millionaire and to a small tobacco dealer, although, of course, in his soul he is moderately mean to the former. This is not the case with us: we have such wise men who will speak completely differently to a landowner who has two hundred souls than to one who has three hundred, and again will not speak to one who has three hundred. just as with the one who has five hundred of them, and with the one who has five hundred of them, again it is not the same as with the one who has eight hundred of them - in a word, even if you go up to a million, there will be all shades. Suppose, for example, there is an office, not here, but in a distant country, and in the office, let us suppose, there is a ruler of the office. I ask you to look at him as he sits among his subordinates. - You just can’t utter a word out of fear! pride and nobility, and what does his face not express? just take a brush and paint: Prometheus, determined Prometheus! Looks out like an eagle, acts smoothly, measuredly. The same eagle, as soon as he leaves the room and approaches the office of his boss, scurries like a partridge with papers under his arm that there is no urine. In society and at a party, even if everyone is of low rank, Prometheus will remain Prometheus, and a little higher than him, Prometheus will undergo such a transformation that Ovid would not have imagined: a fly, smaller than even a fly, was destroyed into a grain of sand. “Yes, this is not Ivan Petrovich. - you say, looking at him. - Ivan Petrovich is taller, but this one is short and thin; he speaks loudly, has a deep bass voice and never laughs, but this devil knows what: he squeaks like a bird and keeps laughing.” You come closer and look - exactly Ivan Petrovich! “Ehe-he!” - you think to yourself.

(N. Gogol)

Text No. 6

To be or not to be, that is the question. Is it worthy

Resign yourself to the blows of fate,

Or must we resist

And in mortal combat with a whole sea of ​​troubles

End them? Die. Forget yourself.

And know that this breaks the chain

Heartache and thousands of hardships,

Inherent in the body. Isn't this the goal?

Desired? Die. Lose yourself in sleep.

Fall asleep... and dream? Here is the answer.

What dreams will you have in that mortal sleep?

When is the veil of earthly feelings removed?

That's the solution. That's what lengthens

Our misfortunes last for so many years.

Otherwise, who would bear the humiliation of the century,

The lies of the oppressors, the nobles

Arrogance, feeling of rejection.

Slow judgment and, most of all, mockery of the unworthy at the worthy. When it's so easy to tie up all the loose ends A blow of a dagger! Who would agree, Groaning, to trudge along under the burden of life, If only there was uncertainty after death. The fear of a country from which no one ever returned did not incline the will to put up with a familiar evil, rather than seek flight to the unfamiliar! So thought turns us all into cowards And our resolve withers like a flower In the sterility of a mental dead end. This is how plans on a grand scale, which promised success at the beginning, perish from long delays. But enough!

Ophelia! O joy! Remember My sins in your prayers, nymph.

(U.Shakespeare. Hamlet) Translation by B. Pasternaki

Text No. 7

There are many writers who take a dark pleasure in depicting scenes of violence and shame. Most importantly, they strive to instill in the reader a pessimistic philosophy. “The world is absurd,” they say. But what does it mean?

The world itself is devoid of evil will; it provides us with facts. The role of a person is to understand the facts offered to him by life, organize them and build a more just world. Of course, there are animals in the forests, and cruel people in the cities. Of course, nature often creates chaos rather than order. Leave a piece of land to nature - she will turn it into a jungle; only man can create a garden.

“Black” authors of our era are justifiably reproached for this. that they constantly tell the reader about his wild instincts, about his complexes and lies and never talk about his high moral qualities, about happiness and courage, “It is better to talk to a man about his freedom,” said Spinoza, “than about his slavish essence " Yes, because if you take away all hope from him, you will make him unable to act. Give a person to believe in the power of the will (which is true), and he will use it.

It’s true, they lived through a truly inhumane time, when people admired barbarity, when feelings were stifled by cruelty. It is true that their literature tells the truth about this era, but is this the whole truth?

We have indeed seen disgusting monsters, but next to them there are many heroes, courageous and kind, selflessly devoted to the most human ideals.

We see how much has already been done to make people happier and more equal. If you keep silent about this, if our palette does not contain lively and cheerful colors along with the gloomy colors, then you will give a distorted picture of life and cause a lot of harm.

(According to A. Maurois)

ESSAY OPTIONS

Compare your work with these samples. Follow the logic and structure of the texts. Check whether there are any logical violations in your works, whether you used sufficiently convincing and meaningful arguments, and whether the conclusion corresponds to the content.

Text No. 1

(1) In the outskirts of our village there was a long room made of boards on stilts. (2) For the first time in my life I heard music here - violin. (3) Vasya the Pole played it. (4) What did the music tell me? (5) About something very big, (6) What was she complaining about, who was she angry with? (7) I feel anxious and bitter, (8) I want to cry, because I feel sorry for myself, I feel sorry for those who sleep soundly in the cemetery!
(9) Vasya, without ceasing to play, said: “(10) This music was written by a man who was deprived of the most precious thing. (11) If a person has no mother, no father, no homeland, he is not yet an orphan. (12) Everything passes: love, regret for it, the bitterness of loss, even the pain from wounds - but the longing for the homeland never goes away and does not go away. (13) This music was written by my fellow countryman Oginsky. (14) I wrote at the border, saying goodbye to my homeland. (15) He sent her his last greetings. (16) The composer has long been gone from the world, but his pain, his melancholy, his love for his native land, which no one can take away, is still alive.”
(17) “Thank you, uncle,” I whispered. (18) “What, boy?” -(19) “The only thing is that I’m not an orphan.” (20) With ecstatic tears I thanked Vasya, this night world, the sleeping village, and also the sleeping forest behind it. (21) At those moments there was no evil for me. (22) The world was kind and lonely just like me. (23) Music sounded within me about the ineradicable love for the homeland. (24) And the Yenisei, which does not sleep even at night, the silent village behind me, the grasshopper working with its last strength against the autumn in the nettles, it seems to be the only one in the whole world, the grass cast as if from metal - this was my homeland.
(25)...Many years have passed. (26) And then one day at the end of the war I stood near the cannons in a destroyed Polish city. (27) There was a smell of burning and dust all around. (28)1 suddenly, in the house across the street from me, the sounds of an organ were heard. (29) This music stirred up the memories. (30) Once I wanted to die from incomprehensible sadness and delight after I listened to Oginsky’s polonaise, (31) But now the same music that I listened to in childhood was refracted in me and petrified, especially that part of it, from which I once cried. (32) The music, just like on that distant night, grabbed the throat, but did not squeeze out tears, did not sprout pity. (33) She called somewhere, forced them to do something so that these fires would go out, so that people would not huddle in burning ruins, so that the sky would not throw up explosions. (34) Music ruled over the city, numb with grief, the same music that, like the sigh of his land, was kept in the heart of a man who had never seen his homeland and had been yearning for it all his life. (According to V. Astafiev)

Why does a person feel love for his homeland forever? It is the problem of homesickness that he addresses in his text. V. Astafiev.

This moral problem is one of those that is relevant today. A person cannot live outside his homeland. Remembering his childhood, the author talks about a person he knows who “lost what was most dear to him” and dedicated his music to his native land. V. Astafiev convinces that if a person has no mother, no father, but has a homeland, he is not yet an orphan.

One cannot but agree with the author that truly noble people can be called those who, despite life’s adversities, maintain an invisible connection with their small homeland and a respectful attitude towards their past. For example, when the Nazis, having occupied France, invited General Denikin, who fought against the Red Army during the Civil War, to cooperate with them against Soviet power, he refused, because his homeland was more valuable to him than political differences.

The author’s correctness is also confirmed by the experience of fiction. The small homeland is the cradle of childhood, the place where a person is formed as an individual, where the foundations of moral education are laid. And if he remembers this, then neither time, nor fashion, nor the people around him will change him. Thus, Tatyana Larina, the heroine of the novel “Eugene Onegin” in verse by A.S. Pushkin, after marriage becomes a brilliant society lady, but behind external changes she is easily recognizable as the former provincial young lady who is ready to give everything “for a shelf of books, for a lovely garden.” "

So, a person experiences love for his homeland forever if he maintains his blood connection with his home, with his childhood. Tanya D., 11th grade

Composition

“The music grabbed you by the throat, but did not squeeze out tears, did not sprout pity.” In the proposed text V. Astafiev makes us think about the problem of the impact of art on humans.

The problem raised by the author remains relevant at all times and concerns people of different ages and professions. It is one of the “eternal” ones, because the desire to create is characteristic of every person. The author, telling his story, explains what music means to him. But also tries to convey to readers the importance of music for everyone. Convinces that music is like a key that unlocks tender or sad memories in people.

I completely agree with the author's opinion. Of course, art influences a person: it inspires him, reveals hidden feelings in him. An example of the influence of art on a person is the work of A.I. Kuprin “Garnet Bracelet”. For Princess Vera, the main character, music becomes a consolation after the death of Zheltkov, reveals the sensuality of her soul, and transforms the heroine internally.

On the other hand, in A. Conan Doyle’s novel “Sherlock Holmes,” the main character always picked up the violin in order to concentrate. The music flowing from under the bow helped him make the right decision and reveal the secret.

So, to paraphrase V. Astafiev (“Music reigned in the heart of man”), we can say that music living in the hearts is capable of working miracles with a person. Anya K., 11th grade

What role does true art play?In human life? Whichcan have an impactmusic per person? Exactly the problem the impact of music on the human soulraises in his text V.P.Astafiev.

Author explains the problem with an exampletwo incidents from the life of the narrator who recalls feelings,awakened in his soul under the influence of music. The writer talks abouta boy who heard music for the first time and experienced feelings of pity for himself and other people, longing for his homeland.

Pondering the problemthe influence of music on a person, V.P. Astafiev compares the feelings experienced by the hero in childhood with the feelings during the war, when the narrator hears the same music.The author draws attention to the fact thatwhat is music nowhas a different effectat the listener: “she called somewhere,” “forced her to do something...”

l music - violin. Vasya the Pole played it. What was the music telling me? What was she complaining about, who was she angry with? I feel anxious and bitter, I want to cry, because I feel sorry for myself, I feel sorry for those who sleep soundly in the cemetery! Vasya, without ceasing to play, said: This music was written by a man who was deprived of the most precious thing. If a person has no mother, no father, but has a homeland, he is not yet an orphan. Everything passes: love, regret about it, the bitterness of loss, even the pain from wounds, but it never goes away and the dot in the homeland never goes out. This music was written by my fellow countryman Oginsky. Wrote at the border, love for his native land, which no one could take away, is still alive Vasya fell silent, the violin spoke, the violin sang, the violin faded away. Her voice became quieter, quieter, it stretched out in the darkness like a thin light web. The web trembled, swayed and broke off almost silently. I removed my hand from my throat and exhaled the breath that I was holding in my chest with my hand because I was afraid of breaking the light web. But it all ended. The stove went out. Layering, the coals fell asleep in it. Silence. Tyumen. Sadness. “It’s already late,” Vasya said from the darkness. “Go home.” Grandma will be worried. Thank you, uncle,” I whispered. Vasya stirred in the corner, laughed embarrassedly and asked: “For what?” I don't know why. And he jumped out of the hut. With touched tears I thanked Vasya, this night world, the sleeping village, the sleeping forest behind it. I wasn’t even afraid to walk past the cemetery. Nothing is scary now. At those moments there was no evil around me. The world was kind and lonely - there was nothing, nothing bad in it. Music sounded in me about the ineradicable love for the homeland. And the Yenisei, not sleeping even at night, the silent village behind me, the grasshopper working with all his might against the autumn in the nettles, it seems like he is the only one in the whole world, the grass cast as if from metal - this was my homeland. ...Many years later. And then one day, at the end of the war, I stood near the cannons in a destroyed Polish city. There was a smell of burning and bullets all around. And suddenly, in the house across the street from me, the sounds of an organ were heard. This music stirred up the memory. I once wanted to die from incomprehensible sadness and delight after I listened to Oginsky’s polonaise. But now, just like on that distant night, she grabbed her by the throat, but did not squeeze out tears, did not sprout pity. She called somewhere, forced her to do something so that these fires would go out, so that people would not huddle in the burning ruins, so that the sky would not throw up explosions. Music ruled over the city, numb with grief, the same music that, like the sigh of his land, was kept in the heart of a man who had never seen his homeland and had been yearning for it all his life.

Essay - reasoning

Introduction: “Music is an art that acts directly on the heart of the listener,” said one of the greats. The magical power of music can make a person dream, remember the past, think about himself and reconsider his life, correct mistakes and act as his heart tells him; music can, on the contrary, lead to despair and cause negative emotions.
Problem Statement:

In the text proposed for analysis by V.P. Astafiev posed the problem of the role of music in human life.

Leading the reader to his position, the hero-narrator discusses what thoughts and feelings the ringing of the bells of the Dome Cathedral in Riga evokes in him. “Everything froze, stopped,” - this is how the music of the bells affected him. It awakens in the hero a philosophical understanding of life. The Dome Cathedral makes the hero feel happy and revives his faith in life, and he is grateful to him for this.

It not only makes us think, but can also change our destiny. So, for example, in the work of V.G. Korolenko "The Blind Musician" music allowed the blind Petrus to radically change his future. He became a famous musician despite his illness.

Music also helped Wladyslaw Szpilman, a famous Polish musician who found himself in a Jewish ghetto during World War II, survive. In his memoirs, written many years after these terrible events, he admitted that it was music that played a key role in his fate.

To sum up my reasoning, I want to note once again that music has incredible power, which has a huge impact on a person and sometimes even determines his destiny.

Updated: 2017-04-01

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Useful material on the topic

• The influence of music on a person according to the text by V. P. Astafiev “In the outskirts of our village there was a long room made of boards on stilts”