Story competition description of the main square. Competition

Vikenty Veresaev

Competition

Heralds walked around the city and, in their usual loud voices, proclaimed at the crossroads the resolution of the people's assembly: to appoint a competition for a painting depicting the beauty of a woman; This picture, of enormous size, will be erected in the central niche of the portico on the Square of Beauty, so that everyone passing from afar can see the picture and tirelessly praise the creator for the joy he has given to the world.

Exactly one year later, in the month of grapes, the paintings should be exhibited to the public. Whose picture turns out to be worthy of decorating the best square of the great city, he will be rewarded more generously than the kings once awarded: a triple laurel wreath will adorn his head, and the winner will have a name - Thrice-Crown.

So the heralds called out at the crossroads and markets of the city, and the Twice-Crown, in a traveling hat and with a knapsack over his shoulders, with a dogwood stick in his hand and with gold in his belt, was already leaving the city. Gray beard it moved in the wind, its large, always yearning eyes looked up at the mountains, where a rocky road rose between the vineyards.

He went to search the world for the highest Beauty, imprinted in a female image.

At the hut behind the fence, a black-haired young man was chopping brushwood on the stump of a hornbeam with an ax. He saw the traveler, straightened up, brushed his curls from his tanned face and joyfully flashed his teeth and the whites of his eyes.

- Teacher, rejoice! – he cheerfully greeted the traveler.

- Rejoice, my son! - answered the Twice-Crown and recognized the Unicorn, his beloved student.

– You are going on a long journey, teacher. You have a hat on your head and a knapsack on your shoulders, and your sandals are made of heavy buffalo leather. Where are you going? Come under my roof, my father, and we will drink a mug of good wine with you, so that I can wish you a happy journey.

And with great haste the Twice-Crown answered:

- Willingly, my son!

The unicorn slammed his shiny ax into the stump and shouted, exulting:

- Zorka! Hurry here! Bring it to us best wine, cheese, grapes!.. Great joy descends on our house: my teacher is coming to me!

They sat down in front of the hut, in the shade grape vines, hanging their black grapes over their heads. Looking at the great one with timid reverence, Zorka placed a jug of wine and wooden plates with cheese, grapes and bread on the table.

And the Unicorn asked:

-Where are you going, teacher?

The Twice-Crown put down his mug and looked at him in surprise.

“Have you not heard what the heralds have been shouting about for three days in the squares and crossroads of the city?”

- Heard.

– And... are you thinking of entering the competition?

- Yes teacher. I know that I will have to fight with you, but such a fight cannot be offensive to you. I know that the struggle will be difficult, but he is not an artist who would be afraid of it.

- I thought so. I also know that the struggle ahead is difficult and it will not be easy to defeat you. When are you going on the road?

- How to where? To look for that highest Beauty that must be somewhere. Look for it, no matter who it is invested in - whether in a proud princess, in a wild shepherdess, in a brave fisherman, or in a quiet daughter of a winegrower.

The unicorn grinned carefree.

- I already found her.

The Twice-Crown's heart began to beat with slow, strong tremors, his chest became short of air, and his gray head began to tremble. He asked carefully, not hoping to get a truthful answer:

- Where did you find her?

- And here she is!

And the Unicorn pointed to Zorka, his beloved. His gaze was straight, and there was no guile in it.

The Twice-Crown looked at him in amazement.

The old man's head stopped shaking and his heart beat evenly. And the feeling of a teacher began to speak in him.

- My son! Your beloved is sweet, I don't argue. Happy is the one whose neck these slender golden arms hug, to whose chest these lovely breasts press. But think: is this the beauty that should bring the world before it?

- Yes, exactly the same one. There is not and cannot be any beauty in the world higher than the beauty of my golden Dawn,” the Unicorn said enthusiastically.

And the Twice-Married One was filled with doubt for a moment: had his eye deceived him, had he overlooked something in this girl, standing downcast in the hot shadow of the vines? He looked at her carefully and searchingly. An ordinary girl, the likes of which you can meet dozens of everywhere. A wide face, slightly askew eyes, slightly sparsely spaced teeth. The eyes are cute, big, but there’s nothing special about them... How blind are lovers!

A jubilant laugh began to beat in the teacher’s chest, but his face remained serious. He stood up and, hiding his guile, said:

- Maybe you are right. Blessed are you that you have found so close what I have to look for so far and for a long time... Rejoice! And rejoice, happy one among maidens!

When the Twice-Crown stepped out onto the road, he sighed with relief and calm: the only dangerous rival himself, in his love blindness, removed himself from his path. The old man's back straightened, and, shortening the path, he cheerfully walked up the mountain along the white stones of the bed of a dried up mountain stream.

Once, in the month of the winds, across the sea, he saw an eastern princess riding on mules at the city gates and stopped and for a minute looked greedily at her sparkling beauty.

And he thought hesitantly:

- Maybe she is?

But now he overcame himself, turned away and resolutely walked on.

– May be? So it’s not her... True beauty is like a firefly, he said to himself. – When you look for fireflies in the forest at night, it often happens: suddenly you stop, “stop!” Looks like a firefly! It seems?... Don't stop, move on. This is a pebble or an anemone flower turning white in the dark, this is a piece of moonlight that has fallen into a thicket on a withered leaf. When a firefly shines with its clear light, piercing the darkness, then you don’t question yourself, then you say directly and confidently: it’s him!

Month after month passed. The equinoctial storms died down at sea and the leaves fell from the oak trees. The sun began to go lower and deeper, looking deeper into the windows of the huts. Foggy shadows crawled across the waves of the cooling sea. The mountains put white caps on their heads, an icy wind drove dry, rustling snow through the valleys. And again the sun began to rise higher. Before the morning dawn, the heavenly Sagittarius ran out from behind the mountains and aimed an arrow at the curved back of the sparkling Scorpio. It was more warm.

“The Competition” by Vikenty Veresaev is a kind of fairy tale-parable that reveals the mysterious concept of true beauty. In his work, Veresaev also talks about the problem of the perception of beauty by every person. Views are compared here individuals to the beautiful. With the help of the contrast of two images, the reader clearly sees the difference between the beauty of the soul and externally. We see that the beauty of the soul and art are very closely intertwined.

Twice-married-by-all recognized master, great artist, must compete with his student Unicorn for the right to be called Thrice-Crown, which is the most great reward for each. The heroes are given a serious task - to find a girl in whom they will be imprisoned. true beauty. The twice-married man is looking for external beauty, he is looking for a beautiful maiden who is ideal, slender, bright-eyed, etc. For this he has to go to long journey, while his student found this very true beauty in his beloved named Zorka. An ordinary girl, with an ordinary appearance, with a certain number of flaws, but emitting the brightest light.

Having learned about this, the master chuckles at his student, reflecting on how love blinds people.

The creation of the Twice-Crown makes the male half of the public think that their wives are much different from the “Violet-crowned” maiden; they are disappointed that they live with such simple and extraordinary women. They are sad because they spent their lives with such ordinary women.

When the Unicorn opens her creation for everyone to see, the crowd hums with displeasure, is indignant and laughs at the guy, but after a while, people notice how beautiful Zorka’s eyes are, her embarrassed smile, shy pose, the whole image of the girl radiates sunlight, the picture awakens long-forgotten feelings in people, and every hardened heart lights up again. The image of Zorka again gives people that dreaminess, love, returns them to youth, to the times when they met their loved ones: “The face of the old grumbling driver cleared up, he looked at his old woman, and smiled, and pushed her with his dry elbow in her fat side. - “Do you remember, old woman... Gee-gee!.. At the watering hole? You were watering the goats, and I jumped over the fence... The new moon was standing over the mountain, wild plums were blooming..." And, smiling shyly, the familiar, dear, long-time friends looked at him from a swollen, crimson face forgotten eyes, and this face was illuminated by the reflection of that eternal light, which came from Zorka. " Natural beauty the girl's voice permeates the souls of all those present in the square, makes them believe again in the beauty of their beloved women. Everyone in the city knew Zorka, every morning they saw her going to the market, hoeing the vineyard, and never thought that she was beautiful, only the Unicorn was able to see her in the girl extraordinary beauty and in his creation he managed to reveal all the advantages of his beloved girl.

Summing up, I would like to say that Veresaev put a lot into his work deep meaning. The problem of perception of beauty has worried many writers different eras, countries Leo Tolstoy, Nikolai Zabolotsky, Oscar Wilde are just some of the authors who were interested in this problem. And it’s not for nothing that it excites the hearts and minds of authors. Veresaev proves to readers that every loving heart is able to see the true beauty of a person’s soul. This fairy tale teaches us not to blindly trust our eyes, learns to feel with our soul, because the true beauty of every person lies not in his appearance, but in his soul, because the soul of a person, his inner world, conceals an unimaginable amount of beauty; it is impossible to understand the beauty of a person without knowing his soul.

Updated: 2017-10-30

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When the competition was announced, no one in the city doubted that only Twice-Crown - a world-famous artist, the pride of the city - was capable of completing the task. And only he himself felt some fear in his soul: he knew the strength of the young Unicorn, his student.
Heralds walked around the city and, in their usual loud voices, proclaimed at the crossroads the resolution of the people's assembly: to appoint a competition for a painting depicting the beauty of a woman; This picture, of enormous size, will be erected in the central niche of the portico on the Square of Beauty, so that everyone passing from afar can see the picture and tirelessly praise the creator for the joy he has given to the world. Exactly one year later, in the month of grapes, the paintings should be exhibited to the public. Whose picture is worthy of decorating the best square of the great city will be rewarded more generously than the kings once awarded: a triple laurel wreath will adorn his head, and the winner will be called Thrice-Crown.
So the heralds called out at the crossroads and markets of the city, and the Twice-Crown, in a traveling hat and with a knapsack over his shoulders, with a dogwood stick in his hand and gold in his belt, was already leaving the city. His gray beard moved in the wind, his large, always melancholy eyes looked up at the mountains, where a rocky road rose between the vineyards. He went to search the world for the highest Beauty, imprinted in a female image.
At the hut behind the fence, a black-haired young man was chopping brushwood on the stump of a hornbeam with an ax. He saw the traveler, straightened up, brushed his curls from his tanned face and joyfully flashed his teeth and the whites of his eyes.
- Teacher, rejoice! He cheerfully greeted the traveler.
- Rejoice, my son! - answered the Twice-Crown and recognized the Unicorn, his beloved student.
- You are going on a long journey, teacher. You have a hat on your head and a knapsack on your shoulders, and your sandals are made of heavy buffalo leather. Where are you going? Come under my roof, my father, and we will drink a mug of good wine with you, so that I can wish you a happy journey.
And with great haste the Twice-Crown answered:
- Willingly, my son!
The unicorn slammed his shiny ax into the stump and shouted, exulting:
- Zorka! Hurry here! Bring us the best wine, cheese, grapes!.. Great joy descends on our house: my teacher is coming to me!
They sat down in front of the hut, in the shade of the vines, hanging their black clusters above their heads. Looking at the great one with timid reverence, Zorka placed a jug of wine and wooden plates with cheese, grapes and bread on the table. And the Unicorn asked:
-Where are you going, teacher?
The Twice-Crown put down his mug and looked at him in surprise.
-Have you not heard what the heralds have been shouting about for three days in the squares and crossroads of the city?
- Heard.
- And... are you thinking of participating in the competition?
- Yes teacher. I know that I will have to fight with you, but such a fight cannot be offensive to you. I know that the struggle will be difficult, but the artist is not the one who would be afraid of it.
- I thought so. I also know that the struggle ahead is difficult and it will not be easy to defeat you. When are you going on the road?
-Where?
- How to where? To look for that highest Beauty that must be somewhere. To look for it, no matter who it is invested in - whether in a proud princess, in a wild shepherdess, in a brave fisherman, or in a quiet daughter of a winegrower.
The unicorn grinned carefree.
- I already found her.
The Twice-Crown's heart began to beat with slow, strong tremors, his chest became short of air, and his gray head began to tremble. He asked carefully, not hoping to get a truthful answer:
- Where did you find her?
- And here she is!
And the Unicorn pointed to Zorka, his beloved. His gaze was straight, and there was no
deceit. The Twice-Crown looked at him in amazement.
-She?
-Well, yes!
The old man's head stopped shaking and his heart beat evenly. And the feeling of a teacher began to speak in him.
- My son! Your beloved is sweet, I don't argue. Happy is the one whose neck these slender golden arms hug, to whose chest these lovely breasts press. But think: is this the beauty that should bring the world before it?
- Yes, exactly the same one. There is not and cannot be any beauty in the world higher than the beauty of my golden Dawn,” the Unicorn said enthusiastically.
And the Twice-Married One was filled with doubt for a moment: had his eye deceived him, had he overlooked something in this girl, standing downcast in the hot shadow of the vines? He looked at her carefully and searchingly. An ordinary girl, the likes of which you can meet dozens of everywhere. A wide face, slightly askew eyes, slightly sparsely spaced teeth. The eyes are cute, big, but there’s nothing special about them... How blind are lovers! A jubilant laugh began to beat in the teacher’s chest, but his face remained serious. He stood up and, hiding his guile, said:
- Maybe you are right. Blessed are you that you have found so close what I have to look for so far and for a long time... Rejoice! And rejoice, happy one among maidens!
When the Twice-Crown stepped out onto the road, he sighed with relief and calm: the only dangerous rival himself, in his love blindness, removed himself from his path. The old man's back straightened, and, shortening the path, he cheerfully walked up the mountain along the white stones of the bed of a dried up mountain stream.

Twice-Crown moved from city to city, from village to village, swam from island to island. Not knowing fatigue, he searched for the maiden in whom nature had invested her best beauty. He searched in vineyards and fishermen's huts, in temples and bazaars, in the villas of noble gentlemen, in the palaces of eastern kings. His glorious name opened all doors for him and made him a welcome guest everywhere. But nowhere did he find the one he was looking for. There was fatigue in the body, despair in the soul. Never, never, it seemed to him, would he find what he was looking for. He won’t find it because he’s not able to find it.
A warm wind blew from the midday side, from the mountains, and it was all saturated with the smell of violets. There, on mountain passes, forest glades are covered with continuous carpets of violets. This evening he walked along the path along these passes and admired everything around him and inhaled the chaste smells early spring. And now, when twilight had covered the mountains, when the smell of violets was wafting in the warm wind from afar, it seemed to him that everything there was more beautiful, more mysterious and deeper than he had been able to see up close. And if he goes there, and again beauty will move away, and again it will be good, but not the same... What kind of witchcraft is this in world beauty, that it always eludes man, is always inaccessible and incomprehensible and does not fit entirely into any form of nature?
The Twice-Crown looked back at everything he had done in his life, which had made him famous throughout the world, and fell with his face to the headboard. He felt disgusted and ashamed for his inept allusions to the great and incomprehensible that hovered before his melancholy eyes and which he had never been able to translate into forms and colors.
So he fell asleep, burying his face in his hard cloak. A warm wind, saturated with the smell of violets, kept blowing from the mountains, and the eternally melancholy, never-quiet sea sighed along the shore.
When Twice-Crown woke up, a greenish-golden dawn was breaking over the sea. The mountains, bushes, and thorny grass on the shore stood in the even twilight light, softly glowing, united; light embraced shadow. Then a huge, clear fire, without smoke or smoke, blazed over the sea, the sun slowly flew out of it and hit the earth with its rays. And the light recoiled from the shadow, and they were separated. The light became brighter, the shadow darker.
The Twice-Crown looked at the gloomy mountains drowned in shadow. He looked and jumped to his feet quickly, like a young man. A slender maiden wearing a wreath of violets was descending from a foothill hill, bathed in the rays of the sun. And the artist’s soul was shaken to its very depths, and immediately, without hesitation, without questions, the soul exclaimed with glee:
- That's her!
The Twice-Crown fell to his knees and in prayerful delight stretched out his hands to the radiant maiden.

III

The month of grapes has arrived. Beauty Square, like the sea, was noisy with people. In the depths of the square towered two huge, identical-sized rectangles, bequeathed by the canvas.
Near one stood the Twice-Crown, near the other stood the Unicorn.
The crowd looked with adoration at the confident, sternly calm face of the Twice-Crown and chuckled, looking at the pale tanned face of the handsome Unicorn.
Citizens shouted:
- Unicorn! Run with your daub, don’t be embarrassed...
The unicorn shook his curly hair in response and grinned defiantly, flashing his teeth. An old man in a purple cloak and with a golden hoop on his head struck a silver bell with an ivory stick. Everyone became quiet. The elder extended his wand to the picture of the Twice-Crown. The canvas slid down. High above the crowd stood a maiden descending from a height, illuminated by the rising sun, wearing a wreath of violets.
Behind it piled the dark gray ledges of harsh mountains, not yet touched by the sun. A roar swept through the crowd, and suddenly the square became quiet, like a sultry afternoon in a mountain forest. Divinely calm, the maiden stood and looked at the crowd big eyes, clear as the morning sky after a thunderstorm. No one has ever seen such beauty in the world. She blinded my eyes, I wanted to cover my eyes, as if from the sun that had just emerged from the sea. But the hand fell before it reached the eyes, because the eyes could not tear themselves away from contemplation. And when they broke away and looked around, it was like after looking at the sun that had just emerged from the sea: everything around seemed dark and vague. A body that no one has ever hugged before male hand, was visible through the light fabric. But there was no lust. There was only prayerful bowing and blissful, unearthly sadness. The dark mountains were behind the maiden, and it became dark all around the square. The maidens and wives turned their faces to the side in shame, and the young men and men looked at the Violet Crowned One, shifted their gaze to their beloved and asked themselves: what did they like about these awkward bodies and ordinary faces, in these eyes, dull as a smoky night light?
The old mule driver, with a grumpy face and stubble on his chin, looked sideways at his old woman: she was fat, with a drooping chin and huge breasts, with a face red from the kitchen fumes. He looked again at Violet-crowned and again at his wife. The longing for beauty painfully pinched his hard-as-a-sole heart; and he became afraid of who he was destined to spend his difficult, gray life with.
People stood for a long time in reverent silence, looking and whispering something. And a universal sigh of sacred, great melancholy swept over the crowd. The old man in the red cloak shook off his charm and stood up. His face was stern and solemn. With effort, as if committing forced blasphemy, he extended his wand to the second picture.

The cover fell. A murmur of bewilderment and indignation passed through the square. She sat on the bench, clasping her knee with her hands, leaning her face forward, looking at the crowd. - Zorka! People did not believe their eyes and did not believe that the Unicorn could reach such impudence. Yes, Zorka! The same Zorka who returns from the market in the morning, carrying in a basket half a dozen mullets, bunches of garlic and parsley, the same Zorka who hoees her vineyard outside the city and in the evenings milks the goats in the yard. He sits with his hands on his knee and looks at the crowd. Behind her is the half-peeled wall of the hut and the door frame, above her head are grape leaves, red at the edges, between them are heavy gray clusters, and around her is a hot, sun-drenched shadow. That's all. And she was as big in the picture, about twenty cubits, as the divine maiden in the next picture.
- Even if you draw a mountain the size of a mountain, it won’t get any better! - shouted a mischievous voice. And everyone laughed. There was a whistle, a hiss. Someone yelled:
- Stone him! And others chimed in:
- Stone them!
But then the noise began to die down little by little. Screaming and laughing mouths closed, hands raised with stones dropped. And suddenly it became quiet. So sometimes the wind suddenly blows from the mountains, howls, curls, lifts the street drink to the sky - and suddenly falls, disappears into the ground. People looked at Zorka, and Zorka looked at them. One young man shrugged his shoulders in bewilderment and said to the other:
- You know, I still haven’t noticed that Zorka is so charming. Don't you think so? And the other answered thoughtfully:
- It’s strange, but so. I can't take my eyes off. Raising his eyebrows high, as if listening to something. Zorka looked ahead. A barely noticeable happy smile froze on the lips, there was a happy fear and blissful bewilderment in the eyes of the rising great happiness. She resisted, resisted and, however, all rushed forward in a joyful, irresistible impulse. And everything glowed from within. It was as if someone, secretly loved for a long time, suddenly leaned towards her and quietly whispered:
- Zorka! I love!
People were silent and watched. They forgot that this is the same Zorka who carries dimly gleaming fish and silver bunches of garlic in her basket; they did not notice that her face was somewhat wide and her eyes were set a little askew. It seemed that if she were ugly, like the daughter of a nomad, with a flattened nose and eyes like slits, the ugliness itself, illuminated from within by this wonderful light, would be transformed into unprecedented beauty. It was as if the sun had risen high above the square. A joyful, warming light poured from the painting and illuminated everything around. Everyone remembered best moments his love. With the same light that shone in Zorka, the suddenly transformed face of his beloved shone in the hours of secret meetings, in the hours of the first pure and timid caresses, when the deeply hidden, eternal, captivating beauty inherent in everyone, without exception, unexpectedly comes to light and blooms widely. woman.
The face of the old grumbling driver brightened up, he looked at his old woman, smiled, and pushed her with his dry elbow in her fat side.
- Do you remember, old woman... Gee-gee!.. At the watering hole? You were watering the goats, and I jumped over the fence... The new moon stood over the mountain, wild plum trees were blooming...
And, smiling shyly, familiar, sweet, long-forgotten eyes looked at him from his swollen, crimson face, and this face was illuminated by the reflection of that eternal light that came from Zorka. The driver chuckled and with a dirty hand wiped the tears from his festering eyes. And it seemed to him that he did not know how to appreciate what he had, and through his own fault he made his life gray and joyless. It was he who first shouted to the entire square:
- May the Unicorn be Thrice-Crown!

When the competition was announced, no one in the city doubted that only the Twice-Crown - a world-famous artist, the pride of the city - was capable of completing the task. And only he himself felt some fear in his soul: he knew the strength of the young Unicorn, his student.

Exactly one year later, in the month of grapes, the paintings should be exhibited to the public. Whose picture is worthy of decorating the best square of the great city will be rewarded more generously than the kings once awarded: a triple laurel wreath will decorate his head, and the winner will be called Thrice-Crown.

So the heralds called out at the crossroads and markets of the city, and the Twice-Crown, in a traveling hat and with a knapsack over his shoulders, with a dogwood stick in his hand and with gold in his belt, was already leaving the city. His gray beard moved in the wind, his large, always melancholy eyes looked up at the mountains, where a rocky road rose between the vineyards.

He went to search the world for the highest Beauty, captured by the creator in a female form.

Teacher, rejoice! - he cheerfully greeted the traveler.

Rejoice, my son! - answered the Twice-Crown and recognized the Unicorn, his beloved student.

You are going on a long journey, teacher. You have a hat on your head and a knapsack on your shoulders, and your sandals are made of heavy buffalo leather. Where are you going? Come under my roof, my father, and we will drink a mug of good wine with you, so that I can wish you a happy journey.

And with great haste the Twice-Crown answered:

Willingly, my son!

The unicorn slammed his shiny ax into the stump and shouted, exulting:

Zorka! Hurry here! Bring us the best wine, cheese, grapes!.. Great joy descends on our house: my teacher is coming to me!

They sat down in front of the hut, in the shade of the vines, hanging their black clusters above their heads. Looking at the great one with timid reverence, Zorka placed a jug of wine and wooden plates with cheese, grapes and bread on the table.

And the Unicorn asked:

Where are you going, teacher?

The Twice-Crown put down his mug and looked at him in surprise.

Haven't you heard what the heralds have been shouting about for three days in the squares and crossroads of the city?

And... are you thinking about competing?

Yes teacher. I know that I will have to fight with you, but such a fight cannot be offensive to you. I know that the struggle will be difficult, but he is not an artist who would be afraid of it.

I thought so. I also know that the struggle ahead is difficult and it will not be easy to defeat you. When are you going on the road?

How to where? To look for that highest Beauty that must be somewhere. To look for it, no matter who it is invested in - whether in a proud princess, in a wild shepherdess, in a brave fisherman, or in a quiet daughter of a winegrower.

The unicorn grinned carefree.

I've already found her.

The Twice-Crown's heart began to beat with slow, strong tremors, his chest became short of air, and his gray head began to tremble. He asked carefully, not hoping to get a truthful answer:

Where did you find her?

And here she is!

And the Unicorn pointed to Zorka, his beloved. His gaze was straight, and there was no guile in it.

The Twice-Crown looked at him in amazement.

The old man's head stopped shaking and his heart beat evenly. And the feeling of a teacher began to speak in him.

My son! Your beloved is sweet, I don't argue. Happy is the one whose neck these slender golden arms hug, to whose chest these lovely breasts press. But think about whether this beauty is the one that should bring the world before itself.

Yes, exactly the same one. There is no beauty in the world and cannot be higher than the beauty of my golden Dawn,” the Unicorn said enthusiastically.

And the Twice-Married One was filled with doubt for a moment: had his experienced eye deceived him, had he overlooked something in this girl, standing downcast in the hot shadow of the vines? He looked at her carefully and searchingly. An ordinary girl, the likes of which you can meet dozens of everywhere. A wide face, slightly askew eyes, slightly sparsely spaced teeth. The eyes are cute, big, but there’s nothing special about them... How blind are lovers!

A jubilant laugh began to beat in the teacher’s chest, but his face remained serious. He stood up and, hiding his guile, said:

Maybe you are right. Blessed are you that you have found so close what I have to look for so far and for a long time... Rejoice! And rejoice, happy one among maidens!

When the Twice-Crown stepped out onto the road, he sighed with relief and calm: the only dangerous rival himself, in his love blindness, removed himself from his path. The old man's back straightened, and, shortening the path, he walked briskly up the mountain along the white stones of the bed of a dry mountain stream.

II

Once, in the month of the winds, across the sea, he saw an eastern princess riding on mules at the city gates and stopped and for a minute looked greedily at her sparkling beauty.

And he thought hesitantly:

"Maybe she is?"

But now he overcame himself, turned away and resolutely walked on.

May be? So, it’s not her... True beauty is like a firefly, he said to himself. - When you look for fireflies in the forest at night, it often happens: you suddenly stop - “Stop!” Looks like a firefly! It seems?.. Don't stop, move on. This is a pebble or an anemone flower turning white in the dark, this is a piece of moonlight that has fallen into a thicket on a withered leaf. When a firefly lights up with its clear light, piercing the darkness, then you don’t ask yourself, then you say directly and confidently: it’s him!

And the Twice-Married One wandered.

It was the month of violets. The traveler settled down for the night on the sandy shore of the bay. He drank wine from a flask, ate a piece of stale barley bread with sheep's cheese, made himself a bed: he raised a raised bed of sea sand for his head, spread out his hair cloak and bowed his head on the bed.

There was fatigue in the body, despair in the soul. Never, never, it seemed to him, would he find what he was looking for. He won’t find it because he’s not able to find it.

A warm wind blew from the midday side, from the mountains, and it was all saturated with the smell of violets. There, on mountain passes, forest glades are covered with continuous carpets of violets. This evening he walked along the path along these passes and admired everything around him and inhaled the chaste smells of early spring. And now, when twilight had covered the mountains, when the smell of violets was wafting in the warm wind from afar, it seemed to him that everything there was more beautiful, more mysterious and deeper than he had been able to see up close. And if he goes there, and again beauty will move away, and again it will be good, but not the same... What kind of witchcraft is this in world beauty, that it always eludes man, is always inaccessible and incomprehensible and does not fit entirely into any form of nature?

The Twice-Crown looked back at everything he had done in his life, which had made him famous throughout the world, and fell with his face to the headboard. He felt disgusted and ashamed for his inept hints at the great and incomprehensible that hovered before his yearning eyes and which he could never translate into forms and colors.

So he fell asleep, burying his face in his hard cloak. A warm wind, saturated with the smell of violets, kept blowing from the mountains, and the eternally melancholy, never-quiet sea sighed along the shore.

When the Twice-Crown woke up, a greenish-golden dawn was breaking over the sea. The mountains, bushes, and thorny grass on the shore stood in the even twilight light, softly glowing, united; light embraced shadow. Then a huge, clear fire, without smoke or smoke, blazed over the sea, the sun slowly flew out of it and hit the earth with its rays. And the light recoiled from the shadow, and they were separated. The light became brighter, the shadow darker.

The Twice-Eternal One looked at the gloomy mountains drowned in shadow. He looked and jumped to his feet quickly, like a young man. A slender maiden wearing a wreath of violets was descending from a foothill hill, bathed in the rays of the sun. And the artist’s soul was shaken to its very depths, and immediately, without hesitation, without questions, the soul exclaimed with glee:

That's her!

The Twice-Crown fell to his knees and in prayerful delight stretched out his hands to the radiant maiden.

III

The month of grapes has arrived. Beauty Square, like the sea, was noisy with people. In the depths of the square towered two huge rectangles of the same size, hung with linen. Near one stood the Twice-Crown, near the other stood the Unicorn. The crowd looked with adoration at the confident, sternly calm face of the Twice-Crown and chuckled, looking at the pale tanned face of the handsome Unicorn.

Citizens shouted:

Unicorn! Run with your daub, don’t be embarrassed.

The unicorn shook his curly hair in response and grinned defiantly, flashing his teeth.

An old man in a purple cloak and with a golden hoop on his head struck a silver bell with an ivory stick.

Everyone became quiet. The elder extended his wand to the picture of the Twice-Crown. The canvas slid down.

High above the crowd stood a maiden descending from a height, illuminated by the rising sun, wearing a wreath of violets. Behind it piled the dark gray ledges of harsh mountains, not yet touched by the sun. A roar swept through the crowd, and suddenly the square became quiet, like a sultry afternoon in a mountain forest.

Divinely calm, the maiden stood and looked at the crowd with large eyes, clear as the morning sky after a night thunderstorm. No one has ever seen such beauty in the world. She blinded my eyes, I wanted to cover my eyes, as if from the sun that had just emerged from the sea. But the hand fell before it reached the eyes, because the eyes could not tear themselves away from contemplation. And when they broke away and looked around, it was like after looking at the sun that had just emerged from the sea: everything around seemed dark and vague. A body that no man’s hand had ever embraced was visible through the light fabric. But there was no lust. There was only prayerful bowing and blissful, unearthly sadness.

The dark mountains were behind the maiden, and it became dark all around the square. The maidens and wives turned their faces to the side in shame, and the young men and men looked at the Violet Crowned One, shifted their gaze to their beloved and asked themselves: what did they like about these awkward bodies and ordinary faces, in these eyes, dull as a smoky night light?

An old mule driver, with a grumpy face and stubble on his chin, looked sideways at his old woman; She was fat, with a drooping chin and huge breasts, with a face red from kitchen fumes. He looked again at Violet-crowned and again at his wife. The longing for beauty painfully pinched his heart, hard as a sole, and he became afraid with whom he was destined to spend his difficult, gray life.

People stood for a long time in reverent silence, looking and whispering something. And a universal sigh of sacred, great melancholy swept over the crowd.

The old man in the red cloak shook off his charm and stood up. His face was stern and solemn. With effort, as if committing forced blasphemy, he extended his wand to the second picture.

IV

The cover fell.

A murmur of bewilderment and indignation passed through the square. On the bench, clasping her knee with her hands, leaning her face forward, she sat and looked at the crowd - Zorka! People did not believe their eyes and did not believe that the Unicorn could reach such impudence. Yes, Zorka! The same Zorka who returns from the market in the morning, carrying in a basket half a dozen mullets, bunches of garlic and parsley; the same Zorka who hoees her vineyard outside the city and milks goats in the courtyard in the evenings. He sits with his hands on his knee and looks at the crowd. Behind her is the half-peeled wall of the hut and the door frame, above her head are grape leaves, red at the edges, between them are heavy, bluish clusters, and around her is a hot, sun-drenched shadow. That's all. And she was as big in the picture, about twenty cubits, as the divine maiden in the next picture.

Even if you draw a mountain the size of a mountain, it won’t get any better! - shouted a mischievous voice.

And everyone laughed. There was a whistle, a hiss. Someone yelled:

Stone him!

And others chimed in:

Stone them!

But then the noise began to die down little by little. Screaming and laughing mouths closed, hands raised with stones dropped. And suddenly it became quiet. So sometimes the wind will suddenly blow from the mountains, howl, howl, raise street dust to the sky - and suddenly fall, disappear into the ground.

People looked at Zorka, and Zorka looked at them. One young man shrugged his shoulders in bewilderment and said to the other:

You know, I still haven’t noticed that Zorka is so charming. Don't you think so?

And the other answered thoughtfully:

Strange, but true. I can't take my eyes off.

Raising her eyebrows high, as if listening to something, Zorka looked in front of her. A barely noticeable happy smile froze on the lips, in the eyes there was a bashful fear and blissful bewilderment in front of the enormous happiness rising. She resisted, resisted and, however, all rushed forward in a joyful, irresistible impulse. And everything glowed from within. It was as if someone, secretly loved for a long time, suddenly leaned towards her and quietly whispered:

Zorka! I love!

People were silent and watched. They forgot that this is the same Zorka who carries dimly gleaming fish and silver bunches of garlic in her basket; they did not notice that her face was somewhat wide and her eyes were set a little askew. It seemed that if she were ugly, like the daughter of a nomad, with a flattened nose and eyes like slits, the ugliness itself, illuminated from within by this wonderful light, would be transformed into unprecedented beauty.

It was as if the sun had risen high above the square. A joyful, warming light poured from the painting and illuminated everything around. Everyone remembered the best moments of his love. With the same light that shone in Zorka, the suddenly transformed face of his beloved shone in the hours of secret meetings, in the hours of the first pure and timid caresses, when the deeply hidden, eternal, captivating beauty inherent in everyone, without exception, unexpectedly comes to light and blooms widely. woman.

The face of the old grumbling driver brightened up, he looked at his old woman, smiled, and pushed her with his dry elbow in her fat side.

Do you remember, old woman... Gee-gee!.. At the watering hole? You were watering the goats, and I jumped over the fence... The new moon stood over the mountain, wild plum trees were blooming...

And, smiling shyly, familiar, sweet, long-forgotten eyes looked at him from his swollen, crimson face, and this face was illuminated by the reflection of that eternal light that came from Zorka. The driver chuckled and wiped the tears from his festering eyes with a dirty hand. And it seemed to him that he did not know how to appreciate what he had, and through his own fault he made his life gray and joyless.

It was he who first shouted to the entire square:

May the Unicorn be Thrice-Crown!

to the republican fair of methodological products

"Methodological fair: Development of children's giftedness"

Methodological development

Formation of research skills in the process

studying the work.

Analysis of the story “Competition” by V. Veresaev.

named after Hero Soviet Union »

With. Big Shatma -2012

Explanatory note.

The presented lesson is one of the stages of work on complex text analysis in middle grades. Complex text analysis is one of the types of Olympiad work at the All-Russian Olympiad in Russian Literature. Analysis of a text, whether prosaic or poetic, is one of the most complex types olympiad assignments. As practice shows, even excellent students often fail to cope with this. This development was created to help teachers, as well as middle and senior students.

This is an independent analysis of Veresaev’s story “Competition”. The lesson was given at the district class methodological unification teachers of Russian language and literature, the topic of which was “Project and research activities of students in the lessons of Russian language and literature”

Eighth-graders were not yet familiar with Veresaev’s work. Before this lesson, the stories of L. Ulitskaya, Bunin, E. Gabova were analyzed. The story “The Competition” was read in advance. There were discussions before the lesson. And the tasks given to each group of students were completed in advance.

Analysis of the story made me want to re-read it again. The guests who were present at the lesson also did not remain indifferent - after the lesson they wanted to get acquainted with the story and conduct the same lesson with their students.

Target: Prepare students for complex text analysis.

Tasks: 1. Improve the ability to analyze texts.

2. Develop the ability to operate with necessary literary concepts, ability to formulate detailed answers.

3. Strengthen the ability to summarize the material accumulated by the whole group, build an answer according to plan, and draw conclusions.

Proposed forms and methods of training:

Ø reading text;

Ø drawing up a plan;

Ø independent work in groups on card issues;

Ø research tasks based on the text of the story;

Ø creation of illustrations for the work

Equipment, design:

ØPC with multimedia projector;

Øpresentation “Preparation for an essay-review;

Ø stand with a portrait of Veresaev and illustrations of students;

Øtexts on students’ desks;

Speech samples for writing a review.

ØEpigraph to the lesson: “When a writer feels his blood connection with the people, it gives him beauty and strength.

Methodological advice for the preparatory period:

The preparatory period is the most difficult period. Tasks should be distributed according to the children's abilities. The guys work with instruction cards. Make your own presentations.

SAMPLES OF CARDS – INSTRUCTIONS

What are the features of the story's plot?

For reference.

Motive(lat. moveo- “move”) - the simplest component plot Folklore-mythological motif (by) - an image or episode and / or a set of images and / or episodes found in more than one folklore-mythological text. An example is the motif of knocking down extra suns from the sky1.

Exposition – a message about who the heroes are and in what setting the events will take place.

Tie – an event from which a chain of subsequent events begins to unfold.

Development of action – episodes in which events occur, characters perform actions, communicate, express their thoughts.

Climax – the most intense moment in the development of action.

Interchange – conflict resolution. 2

Supporting questions.

According to what laws does the plot develop?

With which famous fairy tales can you compare the story?

Which famous motif in the story can you highlight?

How many parts does the story have? What is the exhibition about? How does the action develop? Highlight climax, the beginning.

What are the features of the story's composition?

For reference.

Composition – constructing a work using a system of linguistic

means that organize the text as a verbal expression artistic content. If the plot is a chain of events, then composition is the combination of not only events, but everything that is in the work into a single whole, comparison and contrast of episodes, images, statements. The system of images, the relationship of the plot with extra-plot elements, the organization of verbal material. All this serves to embody the idea of the work. 3

Antithesis – opposition of characters, circumstances, images, compositional elements, creating a certain effect. 4

Artistic repetition - repetition of words, details, images, due to which the reader’s attention is fixed on them and their role in the text is enhanced, their emotional impact is emphasized, and the most important thoughts are emphasized. 5

Supporting questions.

- What types of compositions are there (leading compositional principle)?

What is the compositional principle of the story “Competition”?

What compositional techniques are used in the story?

Genre originality.

For reference.

Genre - (from French genre - genus, type ) in literature may be applicable to literary groups formed according to various characteristics. Most often used in relation to works combined in content (comedy, tragedy, drama) 6

Parable - small cautionary tale in didactic-allegorical literary genre containing moral or religious teaching (wisdom). 7

Supporting questions.

Which famous parable reminds me of a story?

What lesson can be drawn from the story?

What is the character of the narrator?

For reference.

Narrator's image – special image in the structure of the work. The main, and often the only means of creating this image is its inherent speech manner, behind which a certain character, way of thinking, and worldview can be seen.

Narrator - artistic image, character. From whose perspective the narration is conducted in epic and lyric-epic works. It is indicated by pronouns and verbs in the first person. This is an artistic image created by a writer, a person who often has dimension and character; his position may or may not coincide with the author’s. 8

Supporting questions.

Does the narrator have a name?

Does the narrator reveal himself? What do we know about him?

Do we feel his presence?

Who asks a rhetorical question: “What kind of witchcraft is this about world beauty, that it always eludes man, is always inaccessible and incomprehensible and does not fit entirely into any framework?”

Heroes of the story.

For reference.

Literary hero- the one who is described in a work of literature, a character. Created by the author through language. 9

Supporting questions.

Who are the main characters of the story?

Can we say that their names are “speaking”?

What does the ellipsis express in the sentence “And... are you thinking of competing?”

Which keywords can you highlight the Unicorn in the description?

What is the speech of the Unicorn, how does he relate to the teacher?

What psychological picture teachers?

Why does the Unicorn call his Zorka golden?

Symbols and details in the story?

For reference.

Symbol - this is a sign, an image of some thing or animal to indicate the quality of an object; symbol any concepts, ideas, phenomena. Fyodor Girenok pointed out that in modern culture The difference “between a sign and a symbol” has been erased, while the specificity of a symbol is an indication of the superreal. The concept of a symbol is closely related to such categories as artistic image, allegory and comparison. Appearing in Ancient Greece the symbol originally denoted a real sign that had secret meaning for a group of people united around some cult. For example, in late antiquity, the cross became a symbol of Christianity. IN modern times the swastika became a symbol of fascism.10

Detail -(fr. detail- part, detail) - particularly significant, highlighted element artistic image, expressive detail in the work, carrying a significant semantic and ideological-emotional load. A detail is capable of conveying the maximum amount of information with the help of a small amount of text; with the help of a detail in one or a few words you can get the most vivid idea of the character (his appearance or psychology), the interior, the setting. Unlike a detail, which always acts with other details, creating a complete and plausible picture of the world, a detail is always independent. Among the writers who masterfully used the detail are A. Chekhov and N. Gogol. eleven

Supporting questions.

What details in the description of the characters would you highlight?

What does the stream symbolize? Dry stream?

What colors predominate in the landscape?

What is the violet a symbol of? Grape?

Why does the painting of the Unicorn depict “heavy gray grapes”, “a hot, sun-drenched shadow”?

What is the style of the story?

For reference.

Style - it is a type of language use, selection and organization linguistic means expressions of content12.

Supporting questions.

What vocabulary does the writer use?

Is it possible to identify an element of psychologism in the story?

What language is the story written in?

What figurative and expressive means are used by the author? What do they express?

During the classes.

When a writer deeply feels his blood connection with the people, it gives him beauty and strength.

(M. Gorky)

Teacher: “The art of writing?.. there is no art of writing... the art of writing is the art of seeing, there is the art of feeling with all your organs, all your nerve endings and nothing more” 13, Veresaev wrote about creativity in his article “What is needed in order to to be a writer." But art is eternal. And any crowd is subject to him. But what kind of art?

Today we will analyze the story “Competition” from the point of view of plot and composition, system of images, problematics, features of the writer’s language, we will try to understand how all this is determined and united by the idea, the general pathos of the work. What enduring values does the author glorify?

Student's story about the writer:

Vikenty Vikentievich Smidovich (Veresaev is the writer’s pseudonym) was born on January 4 (16), 1867 in the family of a Tula doctor. His father. Vikenty Ignatievich, raised children at best works native literature, taught to “read and reread” Pushkin and Gogol, Koltsov and Nikitin, Pomyalovsky and Lermontov. He was not even nineteen years old when his poem “Thinking” was published in the magazine “Fashionable Light” in 1885, and from then until last day of his life - June 3, 1945 - he never left his pen. Saltykov-Shchedrin and V. Garshin, V. Korolenko and L. Tolstoy, A. Chekhov and M. Gorky, he was also our contemporary, a contemporary of M. Sholokhov, A. Tvardovsky, L. Leonov...

Veresaev's talent was extremely multifaceted. He wrote novels, novellas, stories, essays. He was not even nineteen years old when in 1885 his poem “Meditation” was published in the magazine “Fashionable Light”, and from then until the last day of his life - June 3, 1945, - he never left his pen. Contemporary, poems, plays, literary and philosophical treatises, acted as a literary critic, literary critic, publicist, translator.

At the age of seventeen he graduated from the Tula classical gymnasium and entered St. Petersburg University, the Faculty of History and Philology. In 1888, already a candidate historical sciences, V. Veresaev enters the University of Dorpat, Faculty of Medicine. “...My dream was to become a writer; and for this it seemed necessary knowledge biological side of man. His and pathologies; in addition, the specialty of a doctor made it possible to get close to people of the most diverse strata and lifestyles” 14 - this is how V. Veresaev later explained his turn to medicine in his autobiography.

In 1901, the famous “Notes of a Doctor” were published, which shocked Russian society and brought world fame to Veresaev, as well as... exile to Tula under police supervision. The fact is that the hero of “Notes” came to the conviction that people can only be saved by the struggle to eliminate those conditions that “make the young old, which actually shorten the already short human life.”

For two years he traveled around the country and Europe (Germany, France, Italy, Switzerland), met with many famous Russian writers (Chekhov, Tolstoy and others), after which he settled in Moscow and entered the literary group"Sreda", and later to the publishing house of Maxim Gorky - "Knowledge".

With the outbreak of World War I, the writer was mobilized into the active army, and from 1914 to 1917 he was a regimental doctor in the city of Kolomna, then led the military sanitary detachment of the Moscow Railway.
In years he lived near Feodosia, in the village of Koktebel. “During this time, Crimea changed hands several times,” the writer recalled, “I had to go through a lot of hard things, was robbed six times; a patient with Spanish flu, with a temperature of 40 degrees, lay for half an hour under the revolver of a drunken Red Army soldier, who was shot two days later; was arrested white; suffered from scurvy."

The story “Competition” was written in Koktebel, Crimea, in 1919. And in these difficult conditions, the writer asserts with his story that art is eternal.

Veresaev became interested in the philosophy and poetry of the ancient Greeks even in his high school years. A trip to Greece in 1910 confirmed his belief that the worldview of the ancient Greeks embodied the joyful unity of man and environment. Returning from a trip. Veresaev is studying intensively Hellenic culture. In particular, in 1913 he wrote in his autobiography: “Currently I am very interested in Hellenism. I'm finishing great job about Apollo and Dionysus, translated in verse the whole of Archilochus and the whole of Sappho; I’m working on translations of Homeric hymns.” 15

The influence of ancient legends and parables is also felt in the story “The Competition”

Teacher:

Let's start our analysis of Veresaev's story with the title. The title is the first sign of the work from which one begins to get acquainted with the text. It introduces the reader to the world of the work. What types of titles in literature can be distinguished? (slideshow)

Titles (according to literary critic Lamzina) can be symbolic, metaphorical, allusive, proverbial, quotative, antonymous, and also

· Titles that represent the main theme and problem of the work.

· Titles that set the plot perspective of the work. In turn, they are divided into 2 groups:

· Title space. (“Morning of the landowner”, (“Evenings on a farm near Dikanka”), representing the entire plot series or plot;

· titles that highlight the most important moment from the point of view of the development of the action (or culmination). Such titles mark the climax of the story and divide the text into 2 parts: “before” and “after” the event stated in the title (for example, “After the Ball”). title may be indicated plot detail, which turns out to be important for the initiation, development or resolution of the action

· Character titles. (“Taras Bulba”, “Makar Chudra” by M. Gorky, “Olesya”, etc.).

· Titles denoting time and space16.

What is the meaning of the title “Competition”? What type is it? What associations does it evoke for you?

The story evokes an association with Olympic Games in Ancient Greece. Writers and poets, artists and sculptors also competed at this time - they exhibited their creations on the main square of the city. The title of this story defines the main theme and problem of the text.

What is Veresaev’s story about? What problems does the author put forward in it?

The story is dedicated to an art that even a mule driver can understand and appreciate. What should art be? What should true beauty be? The writer poses such problems in his story.

The story has been read by you, the groups have received individual assignments. During your presentations you will be required to take notes in your notebook. Thus, prepare to write a review or feedback on this story.

Student presentations (research work in groups)

Plot.

It seemed to me that the plot develops according to the laws of a fairy tale. In some fairy tales, heralds also in the central square proclaim the royal decree - to find the princess, fill the basket with snowdrops in winter. Kill a dragon or accomplish some other feat. This is how the motif of a road or path appears, very often found in literature or fairy tales. (slide)

The journey that the heroes take in search of truth always ends in the victory of the good, not the rich, but rather the poor.

In the exposition of the story we learn about the purpose of the competition announced in the main square ancient city, - to depict the beauty of a woman in such a way, “so that everyone passing by could see the picture from afar and tirelessly praise the creator for the joy given to them.” The beginning is a meeting between teacher and student in the Unicorn's house. Development of action (second chapter) - the teacher’s search for the highest beauty in a woman. The climax of the story is the unveiling of the painting of the Unicorn. The denouement – the Unicorn becomes the winner (“Thrice-Crown”). Zorka brought light and joy into the souls of simple, rude townspeople.

Composition. Compositional principles and techniques.

What types of compositions are there? Or a guiding compositional principle? Slide)

· Linear - composition. This is the most common type of composition. It is characterized by the fact that in it the parts of the composition follow sequentially, one after another.

· Reverse - in this type of composition, although events are arranged (followed) linearly, they are in the reverse order.

· Ring - characterized by the fact that in it the beginning closes with the ending, that is, the action of the play begins with where it ends.

· Detective - so called because many detective stories are written according to a similar scheme. The exposition in it drags on for quite a long time and the heroes are constantly forced to turn to the beginning and try to restore it.

· Assembly - consisting of several storylines, stories that are linked into one single narrative through editing.

· Collage is one of the most complex compositions, but also the most interesting. It is based on a certain semantic plot, built according to a structural scheme (exposition, plot, climax, denouement, epilogue), but each part of the composition is revealed as a separate story.

· Paradoxical - this type of composition is characterized by an inversion of perspective and a shift in dramatic structure. This conscious violation of the harmonious compositional unity leads to the exposure of the semantic and artistic structure, which generally removes the automatism of the viewer’s perception. The location of the parts of the composition in this case becomes not precisely defined: the beginning may be followed, for example, by the ending, and then the exposition begins. 17

Leading compositional principle Veresaev's story is a linear composition. The plot is presented in chronological order.

I would like to note such a compositional device as antithesis - opposition. Teacher and student are contrasted. Eternally yearning, trying to understand the truth, Mr. Twice - Crowned and always joyful, calm and has already found his ideal Unicorn. The teacher is old and rich (golden belt), and the student is young and poor (he chops wood himself).

Their women are contrasted: the violet-crowned, radiant, royal maiden and the simple, good-natured, hard-working Zorka. When they saw the teacher’s picture, everyone was overcome by “a blissful, unearthly sadness, and the picture of the Unicorn was greeted with whistles and screams.

It became dark from the picture of the Twice-Married, “all faces were turned away in shame.” A wonderful light comes from the painting of the Unicorn. All faces brightened, joy and love filled the souls of the townspeople.

Another compositional technique that can be highlighted in the story is repetition. The images of darkness and light, melancholy and joy are repeated many times. Many times we come across the word struggle - the struggle between teacher and student. The struggle also occurs in the soul of the teacher. Beauty - unearthly beauty in the image of Violet-crowned and earthly, peasant beauty in the image of Zorka. The competition also takes place on Beauty Square.

Genre originality.

It has already been said above that the story is structured according to the laws of a fairy tale. But I would like to note that the story is somewhat similar to a parable. In the parable of prodigal son the son leaves his father to other lands in search of happiness and wealth, but returns home to his father, poor and unhappy. And only in parental home understands that happiness is only here. In my parents' house, in my homeland. Veresaev's story also has an instructive character - happiness can be given by a woman who knows how to love, and not by a woman who expects worship and admiration.

The image of the narrator.

The narrator remains nameless to the reader. He doesn't reveal himself. He follows the characters as if from a bird's eye view. But we feel his presence in relation to the heroes. He worries and yearns together with the Twice-Married, rejoices with the Unicorn for his Dawn. It is the author-narrator who asks the rhetorical question: “What kind of witchcraft is this in world beauty, that it always eludes man, is always inaccessible and incomprehensible and does not fit entirely into any framework?

Heroes.

The main characters of the story are the artists Unicorn and Twice-Crown, and their lovers, Violet-crowned and Zorka. Our heroes live in ancient world, as indicated by the heralds and the place of the competition - Beauty Square. Their names are interesting. The unicorn is an animal, strong, noble, mysterious. The root of this word is the same - it has integral character. He loves one woman, lives in labor and joy, managed to find peace and harmony. Twice-Crown means twice honored highest award- laurel wreath. The following details are noteworthy in the teacher’s description: “knapsack on his shoulders” (always on the go); “gold in the belt” (rich); “longing eyes” (in the eternal search for harmony). But the main thing is that he was afraid of the Unicorn, as indicated by the ellipsis in the sentence “And... are you thinking of entering the competition?”

The key words in the description of the Unicorn are “joy”, “carefree”, “blessed”, “look straight”, “blind”. The teacher was cunning, but there was not a shadow of cunning in the student’s gaze.

The Unicorn's speech is sublime, and he treats the teacher with respect. He welcomes him into the tradition of antiquity. But Veresaev, a wonderful psychologist, it was not for nothing that he was also a doctor, shows us a psychological portrait of the teacher. When the mentor saw Zorka, he stopped doubting his victory. Then the feeling of a teacher began to speak in him, but behind his external seriousness hid a jubilant laughter and a sly smile.

The name Zorka is simple, folk, Russian. An ordinary girl with wide face, slanted eyes, sparse teeth. But how dear she is to her husband, it’s not for nothing that he calls her golden. She goes to the market, milks the goats, and takes care of the vineyard. And, most importantly, she loves her husband. This will make her betrothed happy.

Symbols and details

When the Twice-Crown sets out on a journey in search of supreme beauty, he walks uphill along the “stones of a dried up mountain stream.” The stream is a symbol of life, but its stream has dried up. The dried up stream is a symbol of his fruitless search. How do we see the landscape? Prevail dark colors. He searches for beauty like a firefly in the dark. Because the hero has the same darkness in his soul. Why are even storms equinoctial? Has he become indifferent to everything? And so, in the month of violets (the violet is a symbol of chastity and early spring), he finds a radiant maiden in a wreath of violets.

A symbolic detail in the image of the Unicorn and his golden Dawn is grapes. Grapes are a symbol of wisdom, hospitality, fertility and prosperity. And the painting of the Unicorn shows “heavy gray grapes.” And around the half-painted hut there is a “hot, sun-drenched shadow.” In the shade you can hide from the sultry sun, but from Violet Crowned it became hard, like “a sultry afternoon in a mountain forest.”

Style

The style of the story is sublime. The writer uses sublime vocabulary - “proclaimed”, “we will dry”, “decree”, “glorify the creator”, “inhaled”, etc.

The style is calm, fantastic. We can talk about elements of psychologism in the story. The default method is used.

The story is written figurative language. In the description of Zorka, the epithets “slender golden hands”, “golden Zorka”, “great happiness” are used, and Violet-crowned - “divinely calm”. The writer compares the light emanating from the painting of the Unicorn to the sun.

Using a variety of means word drawing, Veresaev created a hymn to the beauty of a simple girl, beauty illuminated by the light of love.

Students: True beauty is in simplicity. In the ability to love. Zorka is beautiful because she has a beautiful soul. Cold beauty does not warm or ennoble people. Art should serve the people.

Homework. Write a draft essay - review.

Methodological advice for the immediate aftereffect period: The results can be summed up when the guys write their reviews - analyzes of the story. Of course, it can be difficult to write the first time, so students will need to be given speech samples to write comprehensive analysis text. They can be compiled by a teacher, taking into account all the above aspects of text analysis. You can also include categories such as time and space. After the shortcomings and advantages of the essays have been analyzed, offer to analyze one of the stories by I. Polyanskaya, V. Krupin, E. Gabova.

List of used literature:

1. http://ru. wikipedia. org

2. Albetkova. R.I.. Russian literature: From word to literature: textbook. A manual for general education classes in the humanities. Institutions. – M. “Drofa”, 2008. – P.206.

3. Ibid. – P. 207.

4 -7 .http://ru. wikipedia. org

8. Albetkova. R.I.. Russian literature: From word to literature: textbook. A manual for general education classes in the humanities. Institutions. – M. “Bustard”, 2008. – P.355.

9. Ibid. – P. 347.

10.11. http://ru. wikipedia. org.

12. Albetkova. R.I.. Russian literature: From word to literature: textbook. A manual for general education classes in the humanities. Institutions. – M. “Drofa”, 2008. – P. 358.

13. FOKHT-BABUSHKIN Y. – legends and reality. V. Veresaev. Essays in four volumes, vol. 1. – M. “Pravda”, 1990, p. 4-5.

14.15 SMIDOVICH reference Works in four volumes, vol. 1. - M. “Pravda”, 1990, p. 40.

16 Title//nLiterary criticism. Literary work: basic concepts and terms. Ed. L.V. Chernets. M., 2001.

17. http://wiki. kspu. *****/index. php/