By the way, about Pushkin. To his village at the same time New landowner…: pishu_pravilno — LiveJournal
"Here is my Onegin - a villager ..."
The period of Onegin's village life is the time of the brightest disclosure of his personality, both positive and negative qualities. So, Onegin does not hide the arrogant disdain for neighbors, poorly educated, narrow-minded rural landowners.
Hearing "their domestic drogs", he mounted a horse and left the house, which is why he was known among the neighbors as "an ignoramus".
He is not interested in village life, the people around him are not interested. And soon he "saw clearly that in the village the boredom is the same." A person accustomed to work would find there for himself a huge field of activity. Eugene settles in the village - life has somehow changed. At first, the new position amuses him, but he soon becomes convinced that it is just as boring here as in St. Petersburg. Easing the fate of the peasants, Eugene replaced the corvée with dues. Because of such innovations, as well as insufficient courtesy, Onegin was known among the neighbors as “the most dangerous eccentric.” And here he turns out to be “ an extra person". Onegin is also alien to the provincial - "their conversations about wine, about the kennel, about their relatives" were boring to him.
Nothing to do friends - Onegin and Lensky
Where the days are cloudy and short
A tribe will be born that does not hurt to die.
petrarch
At the same time, eighteen-year-old Vladimir Lensky, "an admirer of Kant and a poet," returns from Germany to a neighboring estate. His soul is not yet corrupted by the light, he believes in love, glory, the highest and mysterious goal of life. With sweet innocence, he sings of "something, and a foggy distance" in sublime verses. A handsome, profitable groom, Lensky does not want to embarrass himself either by marriage, or even by participating in everyday conversations of neighbors. And then he meets Lensky - the new owner of the neighboring estate, Vladimir Lensky ...
To your village at the same time
The new landowner galloped
And equally rigorous analysis
In the neighborhood, he gave a reason.
named after Vladimir Lensky
This is a completely different person, he is not like the neighbors - the landowners, who slandered about Onegin: "Our neighbor is an ignoramus ... he is a freemason, he drinks one glass of red wine ... with bottles and very large ones ... ". Pushkin A.S. . Eugene Onegin. Dramatic works. Novels. Tales. M.: Artist. literature, 1977, p. 54. Lensky is the only one with whom Evgeny converges here. Despite the difference in views, Onegin and Lensky very soon became inseparable friends. Having met in the village and made friends with him, Eugene seemed to come to life for a while. Onegin and Lensky became friends. But they are so different:
Wave and stone
Poetry and prose, ice and fire
Not so different from each other.
They became friends because everyone else was completely unsuitable for friendship, because each was bored in his village, having no serious occupation, no real business, because the life of both, in essence, was not filled with anything.
So people (I repent first)
Nothing to do friends.
This "I repent first" is characteristic of Pushkin. Yes, and in his life there were such friendly relations - there was nothing to do - in which he later had to bitterly repent: with Fyodor Tolstoy - "The American", the very one about whom Griboyedov says: "He was exiled to Kamchatka, returned as an Aleut, and firmly on hand unclean; yes clever man cannot be a rogue ", A.S. Griboyedov," Woe from Wit ".- M .: Khudozh. Literature, 1977. p. 68. Perhaps Pushkin, when he wrote these lines, thought about Alexander Raevsky, his "demon", - this friend brought him a lot of grief.
Lensky's romanticism seems to Onegin to be a ridiculous, absurd fantasy. Vladimir is divorced from reality, he does not know life at all, he is in the clouds. Onegin, although cold and prudent, lives by reason, not by heart. Both Eugene and Pushkin himself ironically and laugh at the eccentric Lensky. However, Vladimir seems to fill in Yevgeny's soul what he lacks. And so the characters are friends.
The image of Lensky is necessary for Pushkin in order to show how far these heroes are from each other:
“Everything gave rise to disputes between them,
And it got me thinking:
Tribes of past treaties,
The fruits of science, good and evil ... "
At all different people, Lensky and Onegin nevertheless converge and often spend time together. However, in friendship with Lensky, the very worthy qualities of Onegin also appeared. Eugene listens with a smile to Lensky's "young nonsense". Believing that over the years the delusions themselves will disappear, Onegin is in no hurry to disappoint the poet, the ardor of Lensky's feelings nevertheless arouses respect in him. Lensky tells a friend about his extraordinary love for Olga, whom he has known since childhood and whom he has long been predicted to be a bride.
He is a cool word
I tried to keep in my mouth
And I thought: it's stupid to disturb me
His momentary bliss;
And without me the time will come;
Let him live for now
May the world believe in perfection...
One evening Lensky is going to visit the Larins. Onegin finds such a pastime boring, but then he decides to join a friend to look at the object of his love.
The mother of Tatyana and Olga at one time was married against her will. In the village where she was taken away, at first she cried, but then she got used to it, got used to it, began to "autocratically" manage the household and her husband. Dmitry Larin sincerely loved his wife, trusting her in everything. The family revered ancient customs and ceremonies: they fasted on Lent, they baked pancakes on Shrove Tuesday. Their life went on so calmly until the “simple and kind gentleman” died. Life goes on, one generation is replaced by another.
The time will come, "... our grandchildren in a good hour / They will also push us out of the world!" Pushkin A.S. Eugene Onegin. Dramatic works. Novels. Tales. With. 64 .. It was Lensky who persuaded Onegin to visit the widow Larina, in whose daughter, Olga, the young poet is in love. So he went to get acquainted with Lensky's beloved - Olga, society, first of all, in terms of his social status and upbringing.
“Eyes like the sky, blue, smile, linen curls ... - everything is in Olga ...” Pushkin A.S. Ibid, p. 61.
In the Larins' house, Evgeny also meets Olga's older sister, Tatiana. Her older sister, Tatyana, is not at all like the ruddy, blond, always cheerful Olga. Thoughtful and sad, she prefers loneliness and reading foreign novels to noisy games.
The girl is immediately attracted young man with his mind, naturalness, spirituality. He appreciated and discreet external beauty girls and her rich inner world.
On the way back, Eugene frankly shares his impressions: Olga, in his opinion, is ordinary, in the place of a young poet, he would rather choose an older sister.
Meanwhile, the unexpected visit of friends gave rise to gossip about the future wedding of Eugene and Tatyana. Tatyana herself secretly thinks about Onegin: "The time has come, she fell in love." Pushkin A.S., Eugene Onegin. Dramatic works. Novels. Story, p. 64. Immersed in reading novels, Tatyana imagines herself to be their heroine, and Onegin as a hero. At night, she cannot sleep and starts a conversation about love with the nanny. She tells how she was married at the age of thirteen, and cannot understand the young lady. Suddenly Tatyana asks for a pen and paper and starts writing a letter to Onegin. In him, trusting, obedient to the attraction of feelings, Tatyana is frank. She, in her sweet simplicity, does not know about the danger, does not observe the caution inherent in the "inaccessible" cold St. Petersburg beauties and cunning coquettes, luring fans into their networks. The letter was written in French, since the ladies at that time were much more accustomed to expressing themselves in this language. Tatyana believes that Evgeny was “sent to her by God”, that she cannot entrust her fate to anyone else. She is waiting for Onegin's decision and answer.
In the morning, Tatyana, in agitation, asks Nanny Filipyevna to send a letter to a neighbor. An agonizing wait sets in. Lensky arrives, finally, Onegin comes for him. Tatyana quickly runs into the garden, where the servant girls sing while picking berries.
Tatyana cannot calm down, and suddenly - Evgeny appears in front of her ...
The sincerity and simplicity of Tatyana's letter touched Onegin. If in his place an ordinary secular dandy, he would not fail to “deceive ... the gullibility of an innocent soul”, have fun in the wilderness with a naive rural young lady - and, parting with her, as soon as he gets tired of her, doom her to torment and misfortune. .. Onegin did not do this - but he is not an ordinary secular dandy! He is, after all, a good friend of Pushkin. He knows the price of the world and its "important amusements", Pushkin himself loves in him "an involuntary devotion to dreams" - and now these dreams are ready to come true: a beautiful, proud, mentally rich, sublime girl offers him her love, and he runs from her, runs from your dreams.
In the name of what?
Whenever life is around the house
I wanted to restrict...
That would be true except for you alone
The bride was not looking for another ...
But I'm not made for bliss;
My soul is alien to him ...
It is not true! How can a person say about himself: "I was not created for bliss"?! All people are created for happiness, but not everyone knows how to be happy - here Onegin does not know how, he is afraid. He speaks out:
I will say without madrigal sequins:
Found my old ideal
I would definitely choose you
In the girlfriend of my sad days ...
So, a girl like Tatiana was once Onegin's ideal! But this ideal is "the former", Onegin no longer believes in it; late, as it seems to him, he met Tatyana ... Hating and despising the world, he is nevertheless infected with its views, its prejudices:
As much as I love you,
Having got used, I will stop loving immediately;
Start crying: your tears
Don't touch my heart
And they will only piss him off...
Why is Onegin so sure that there is no other " family happiness"It can't be? Because he saw too many similar examples in the world:
What could be worse in the world
Families where the poor wife
Sad for an unworthy husband
And day and evening alone;
Where is the boring husband, knowing her price
(But cursing fate)
Always frowning, silent,
Angry and coldly jealous!
Once upon a time, in his early youth, Onegin probably believed in the possibility of high love for life. But the light killed this faith - and even the hope of its return:
Dreams and years have no return;
I won't renew my soul...
Here she is - the main tragedy Onegin: "I will not renew my soul"! Of course, from his point of view, he is right, he acts nobly: not believing in the possibility of love, he refuses it, and even brings up the naive Tatyana along the way.
The girl listens to him in tears. He appreciated the discreet external beauty of the girl, and her rich inner world. After reading her declaration of love, Eugene did not deceive her, did not take advantage of the "gullibility of an innocent soul": "It was not the first time that he showed direct nobility to his soul." But, Onegin is deprived of the ability to love, his feelings have become scanty. And therefore, he easily suppresses in himself the involuntary excitement experienced at the sight of Tatyana and after receiving her letter. The history of relations with Tatyana Larina shows us how easily a hero can harm people just like that, out of boredom.
Learn to control yourself;
Not everyone will understand you like me;
Inexperience leads to trouble.
We have to admit that Onegin treated Tanya quite nobly, no matter how honored his enemies and friends. In our life we cannot rely on friends, relatives, or loved ones. What remains? "Love yourself..."
After an explanation with Onegin, Tatyana "fades, turns pale, goes out and is silent." Lensky and Olga, on the contrary, are cheerful. They are together all the time. Lensky decorates Holguin's album with drawings and elegies.
And Onegin, meanwhile, indulges in a quiet village life: "walking, reading, deep sleep." The northern summer passes quickly, the boring autumn time comes, and after it - and frosts. On winter days, Onegin sits at home, Lensky comes to visit him. Friends drink wine, talk by the fireplace, and remember their neighbors. Lensky gives Yevgeny an invitation to Tatyana's name day, talking enthusiastically about Olga. The wedding is already scheduled, Lensky has no doubt that he is loved, so he is happy. His faith is naive, but is it better than that in whom "experience has cooled the heart"?
Tatyana loves the Russian winter: sleigh rides, sunny frosty days and dark evenings. The holidays are coming. Fortune-telling, ancient legends, dreams and signs - Tatyana believes in all this. At night, she is going to tell fortunes, but she becomes scared. Tatyana goes to bed, taking off her silk belt. She dreams a strange dream. She walks alone in the snow, a stream rustles ahead, above it is a thin footbridge. Suddenly, a huge bear appears, which helps Tatiana to cross to the other side, and then pursues her. Tatyana tries to run, but collapses in exhaustion. The bear brings her to some kind of hut and disappears. Coming to her senses, Tatyana hears screams and noise, and through the crack in the door she sees incredible monsters, among them, as the owner - Onegin! Suddenly, from a breath of wind, the door opens, and the whole gang of infernal ghosts, laughing wildly, approaches it. Hearing Onegin's formidable word, everyone disappears. Eugene attracts Tatiana to him, but then Olga and Lensky appear. An argument erupts. Onegin, dissatisfied with the uninvited guests, grabs a knife and kills Lensky. Darkness, a scream... Tatyana wakes up and immediately tries to unravel the dream.
The name day is coming. Guests are arriving. The arrival of Onegin makes Tanya excited, and this annoys Eugene. He is indignant at Lensky, who called him here. After dinner, the ball begins. Onegin finds an excuse to take revenge on Lensky: he is kind to Olga, constantly dancing with her. Lensky is amazed. He wants to invite Olga to next dance, but his bride has already given the floor to Onegin.
To your village at the same time
The new landowner galloped
And equally rigorous analysis
In the neighborhood, he gave a reason.
By the name of Vladimir Lensky,
With a soul straight from Goettingen,
Handsome, in full bloom of years,
Kant's admirer and poet.
He is from foggy Germany
Bring the fruits of learning:
freedom dreams,
The spirit is ardent and rather strange,
Always an enthusiastic speech
And shoulder-length black curls.
Well, let's talk about Lensky ...
Alas, this third most important hero of the novel is presented by Pushkin rather as a kind of symbol, as a decoration against which others “live”. Onegin is Faust, the result of searches, Tatyana is a woman, a natural force given by Pushkin without any explanation at all, and Lensky ... Lensky is just a “romantic youth”, a one-time character.
Pushkin even gave a “biography” to Zaretsky’s mother, worked hard, and drew Lensky with one “stroke” (“Germany”), and pretended to revive him with a dozen common features (“curls”, etc.). And finally, even for school essays there are no such topics - "The Image of Lensky" - what should I talk about?
By the way, about Pushkin.
foggy- Germany or scholarship? and why?To your village at the same time
The new landowner galloped
And equally rigorous analysis
In the neighborhood gave a reason:
By the name of Vladimir Lenskoy,
With a soul straight from Goettingen,
Handsome, in full bloom of years,
Kant's admirer and poet.
He is from foggy Germany
Bring the fruits of learning:
freedom dreams,
The spirit is ardent and rather strange,
Always an enthusiastic speech
And shoulder-length black curls.
update: looked at the draft.
update 2: O. V. Lebedeva, A. S. Yanushkevich. Germany is foggy (thanks karinelli ):He is from Germany.<ании>foggy
Brought the contempt of vanity1
Glorious2 Dreams
Scholarship [mind] is not much strange3
Always
__________________________
1 Brought the fruit of learning<ы>
2 Freedom-loving
3 a. The spirit is ardent<ой>, tone > weight<ь>ma > b. The spirit is ardent<ой>and not a lot of strange c. The spirit is ardent<ой>il > not much strange
<…>
The rewriting of the second chapter of Eugene Onegin was not mechanical for Vyazemsky: Pushkin made significant changes to the new white manuscript, in particular, revised stanzas VI, VII, VIII and X. It can be assumed that the traces of this particular work are carried by l. 58 notebooks No. 835; in three stanzas - VII, VIII and X - the text of the second white manuscript completely coincides with the last version of the published draft, and only in stanza VI Pushkin basically returns to the text of the first white manuscript, although he still takes into account the results of work on a new draft version. Compare:
It is fundamentally important that the capacious formula "Germany foggy" with its reflection in the poetic stamp "foggy distance" combined the whole range of meanings that were actualized on different stages"foggy" epic. Firstly, this epithet arose as a stable stylistic sign of Zhukovsky's romantic, ideal, sublime poetry. In this regard, he, like any of Zhukovsky's poeticisms, found in the Russian poetic tradition no less stable associative connection with the very concept of romanticism, indirectly with the idea of the birthplace of romanticism, Germany, whose singer, propagandist and popularizer in Russian lyrics became Zhukovsky.
Secondly, the image of "Germany foggy" was born in the text of Pushkin's novel as a kind of reference to the visual impression of people who saw the mountainous Saxon landscapes with their own eyes and documented this perception in their travel essays. For Pushkin, who had never been to Germany, this reliance on a purely The visual impressions of eyewitnesses are no less important because Lensky, the Gottingen soul, wandered “under the skies of Schiller and Goethe” not just anywhere, but precisely in Lower Saxony, where the city of Goettingen is located with its famous university.
Finally, the same epithet, applied to Germany and corresponding to the “foggy distance” in Lensky’s poems, gives Pushkin’s characteristic vibration of positive and ironic meanings, which is especially noticeable in the novel, precisely in all the parameters of Lensky’s image, which is located exactly in the interval from the great ridiculously, without being unequivocally sublime, nor unambiguously ironic. The same with the epithet "foggy": "Germany foggy" is the birthplace of high ideal romantic art, but "foggy distance" is a ridiculed poetic cliché, the citation nature of which is confirmed by Pushkin's italics and proximity to such an indefinite object of lyrical delight as the pronoun "something ”, migrated to the pages Pushkin's novel from an article by Küchelbecker.
By the way, in the 2nd volume of Vasily Zhukovsky's Poems (St. Petersburg, 1824). with whom Pushkin met almost simultaneously with the article by Kuchelbecker, one of Zhukovsky's early poems "To Filaret" was published, where we read; “I look into the foggy distance in the evening sometimes ...” (p.108). “Something” by Kuchelbecker and “foggy distance” by Zhukovsky entered the text of Pushkin's novel as a quotation, which is underlined in italics.
<…>
Pushkin's poems finally consolidated in a lapidary, but at the same time extremely polysemantic formula, the indissoluble associative connection of the two ideas, expressed by the stable verbal motifs "Germanic" and "nebulous" in relation to the poetry of Russian romanticism. And since this formula was born at the intersection of three layers of Russian literature: lyrics, essay-epistolary documentaries and literary criticism, insofar as its use is also found in later examples of these genres of Russian literature of the 19th and even 20th centuries. Suffice it to recall the critical department of Nekrasov's Sovremennik, the travel essays "From Abroad" by A.A. Fet, the poetry of F.I. Tyutchev, A.A. Blok. M.I. Tsvetaeva, philosophical writings era of Russian symbolism, in order to feel that Pushkin's "Germany foggy" has firmly entered the Russian cultural consciousness.
1.1.3. Match this fragment novel by A. S. Pushkin "Eugene Onegin" with the following fragment from the novel by M. Yu. Lermontov "A Hero of Our Time". What conclusions did this comparison lead you to?
1.2.3. Compare M. Yu. Lermontov's poem "Duma" with the poem of the same name by N. A. Nekrasov below. What conclusions did this comparison lead you to?
Read the fragments of the works below and complete task 1.1.3.
| VI To your village at the same time The new landowner galloped And equally rigorous analysis In the neighborhood gave a reason: By the name of Vladimir Lenskoy, With a soul straight from Goettingen, Handsome, in full bloom of years, Kant's admirer and poet. He is from foggy Germany Bring the fruits of learning: freedom dreams, The spirit is ardent and rather strange, Always an enthusiastic speech And shoulder-length black curls. VII From the cold debauchery of the world Haven't faded yet His soul was warmed Hello friend, caress maidens; He had a sweet heart, an ignorant one, He was cherished by hope And the world's new shine and noise Still captivated the young mind. He amused with a sweet dream Doubts of his heart; The purpose of our life for him Was a tempting mystery He broke his head over her And I suspected miracles. VIII He believed that the soul is dear Must connect with him What, hopelessly languishing, She is waiting for him every day; He believed that friends were ready For his honor, accept fetters And that their hand will not tremble Break the slanderer's vessel; What are the chosen by fate, People sacred friends; That their immortal family By irresistible rays Someday we will be enlightened And the world will give bliss. IX Resentment, regret Good for pure love And glory sweet torment In it, blood was stirred early. He traveled the world with a lyre; Under the skies of Schiller and Goethe Their poetic fire The soul ignited in him; And the muses of sublime art, Lucky, he did not shame: He proudly preserved in songs Always high feelings Gusts of a virgin dream And the beauty of important simplicity. X He sang love, obedient to love, And his song was clear Like the thoughts of a simple-hearted maiden, Like a baby's dream, like the moon In the deserts of the serene sky, Goddess of secrets and gentle sighs. He sang separation and sadness, And something, and foggy distance, And romantic roses; He sang those distant countries Where long in the bosom of silence His living tears flowed; He sang the faded color of life Nearly eighteen years old. |
A. S. Pushkin "Eugene Onegin"
**********************************
Grushnitsky - Junker. He is only a year in the service, wears, in a special kind of foppery, a thick soldier's overcoat. He has a St. George soldier's cross. He is well built, swarthy and black-haired; he looks to be twenty-five years old, although he is hardly twenty-one years old. He throws his head back when he speaks, and continually twists his mustache with his left hand, for with his right he leans on a crutch. He speaks quickly and pretentiously: he is one of those people who have ready-made pompous phrases for all occasions, who are simply not touched by the beautiful and who importantly drape themselves in extraordinary feelings, sublime passions and exceptional suffering. To produce an effect is their delight; romantic provincial women like them to the point of madness. In old age, they become either peaceful landowners or drunkards - sometimes both. In their souls there are often many good qualities, but not a penny worth of poetry. Grushnitsky's passion was to recite: he bombarded you with words, as soon as the conversation left the circle of ordinary concepts; I could never argue with him. He does not answer your objections, he does not listen to you. As soon as you stop, he starts a long tirade, apparently having some connection with what you said, but which is really only a continuation of his own speech.
He is rather sharp: his epigrams are often funny, but there are never marks and evil: he will not kill anyone with one word; he does not know people and their weak strings, because he has been occupied with himself all his life. His goal is to become the hero of the novel. He tried so often to assure others that he was a creature not created for the world, doomed to some secret suffering, that he almost convinced himself of this. That is why he wears his thick soldier's overcoat so proudly. I understood him, and for this he does not love me, although we are outwardly in the most friendly relations. Grushnitsky is reputed to be an excellent brave man; I saw him in action; he waves his sword, shouts and rushes forward, closing his eyes. This is something not Russian courage! ..
I don't like him either: I feel that someday we will collide with him on a narrow road, and one of us will be unhappy.
His arrival in the Caucasus is also a consequence of his romantic fanaticism: I am sure that on the eve of his departure from his father's village, he spoke with gloomy look to some pretty neighbor that he was not going like that, just to serve, but that he was looking for death, because ... here, he probably covered his eyes with his hand and continued like this: “No, you (or you) should not know! Your a pure soul shudder! Yes, and why? What am I to you! Will you understand me? - and so on. He himself told me that the reason that prompted him to join the K. regiment would remain an eternal secret between him and heaven.
M. Yu. Lermontov "A Hero of Our Time"
Read the works below and complete task 1.2.3.
| Thought Sadly, I look at our generation! His future is either empty or dark, Meanwhile, under the burden of knowledge and doubt, It will grow old in inaction. We are rich, barely from the cradle, The mistakes of the fathers and their late mind, And life is already tormenting us, like a smooth path without a goal, Like a feast at someone else's holiday. Shamefully indifferent to good and evil, At the beginning of the race we wither without a fight; In the face of danger shamefully cowardly And before the authorities - despicable slaves. So skinny fruit, ripe before its time, Not pleasing our taste, nor our eyes, Hanging between flowers, an orphaned stranger, And the hour of their beauty is its fall hour! We dried up the mind with fruitless science, Taya enviously from neighbors and friends Unbelief ridiculed passions. We barely touched the cup of pleasure, But we did not save our young forces; From every joy, fearing satiety, We have extracted the best juice forever. Dreams of poetry, creation of art Sweet delight does not stir our mind; We greedily keep in the chest the rest of the feeling Buried by avarice and useless treasure. When the fire boils in the blood. And our ancestors are boring luxury fun, Their conscientious, childish depravity; And we hurry to the grave without happiness and without glory, Looking back mockingly. Crowd gloomy and soon forgotten We will pass over the world without noise or trace, Not throwing for centuries a fruitful thought, Nor the genius of the work begun. And our ashes, with the severity of a judge and a citizen, A descendant will offend with a contemptuous verse, The mockery of the bitter deceived son Over the squandered father. M. Yu. Lermontov | Thought What is longing and contrition, What is the daily sadness Murmuring, tears, regret - What do we spend, what do we regret? Is the misfortune of a short life For us, the most painful And happiness is so full and sweet What is it worth crying without him?... Swimmers minute in a stormy sea Earthly happiness is incomplete And conquer earthly grief We have been given enough power. Our suffering, our torment, When we tear them down with prayer, For happiness, a strong guarantee In a different house, in a holy country; The world is not eternal, people are not eternal, We will leave the minute house, Will fly out of the chest The soul is an ethereal moth, - And all tears will become pearls Shine in the rays of her crown, And let suffering, softer than roses, She will be paved the way to her father's house. Through the swampy tundra and mountains, When at least the world is one good Do we think we can find them? Why grumble at suffering, Why along the dark path Rebellious life without murmuring, Do not go with the same courage; When, sometimes just as difficult, From the troubles of life and worries That path is not for momentary joy, Does it lead to eternal bliss? N. A. Nekrasov |
Explanation.
1.1.3. Between Grushnitsky and Lensky one can easily detect a striking similarity. “To produce an effect is their delight; romantic provincial women like them to the point of madness. Under old age, they become either peaceful landowners or drunkards - sometimes both, ”Lermontov writes about his hero. And then the lines are even more significant: “His goal is to become the hero of the novel. He tried so often to convince others that he was a creature not created for the world, doomed to some secret suffering, that he himself almost convinced himself of this.
In "Eugene Onegin" about Lensky we read:
Resentment, regret
Good for pure love
And glory sweet torment
In it, blood was stirred early.
Similar? Without a doubt!
Both Grushnitsky and Lensky are more like spectators than participants in the life raging around them, they have no future, they only help to reveal another, more significant character. Therefore, their fate is sealed.
1.2.3. The central idea of both poems is the condemnation of the spiritual apathy of a generation that is unable to "guess" its destiny and find high civil and moral ideals. Lermontov condemns his generation for the insignificance of an aimless existence:
And we hate, and we love by chance,
Sacrificing nothing to either malice or love,
And some kind of secret cold reigns in the soul,
When the fire boils in the blood.
Nekrasov calls to think again, to remember the great destiny of man and boldly embark on the path of struggle:
Why grumble at suffering,
Why along the dark path
Rebellious life without murmuring,
Don't go with the same courage...
In Lermontov's poem, hopelessness sounds, disbelief that changes are possible, that there are forces that can change something. Nekrasov still notes the positive aspects of his generation:
Do we often walk with courage
Through the swampy tundra and mountains,
When at least the world is one good
Do we think we can find them?
Therefore, Nekrasov believes:
And conquer earthly grief
We have been given enough power.
To your village at the same time
The new landowner galloped
And equally rigorous analysis
In the neighborhood, he gave a reason.
By the name of Vladimir Lensky,
With a soul straight from Goettingen,
Handsome, in full bloom of years,
Kant's admirer and poet.
He is from foggy Germany
Bring the fruits of learning:
freedom dreams,
The spirit is ardent and rather strange,
Always an enthusiastic speech
And shoulder-length black curls.
From the cold debauchery of the world
Haven't faded yet
His soul was warmed
Hello friend, caress maidens.
He had a sweet heart, an ignorant one,
He was cherished by hope
And the world's new shine and noise
Still captivated the young mind.
He amused with a sweet dream
Doubts of his heart;
The purpose of our life for him
Was a tempting mystery
He broke his head over her
And I suspected miracles.
He believed that the soul is dear
Must connect with him
What, hopelessly languishing,
She is waiting for him every day;
He believed that friends were ready
For his honor to accept shackles,
And that their hand will not tremble
Break the slanderer's vessel;
What are the chosen by fate,
People sacred friends;
That their immortal family
irresistible beams,
Someday, we will be enlightened
And the world will give bliss.
Resentment, regret
Good for pure love
And glory sweet torment
In it, blood was stirred early.
He traveled the world with a lyre;
Under the skies of Schiller and Goethe
Their poetic fire
The soul ignited in him.
And the muses of sublime art,
Lucky, he did not shame;
He proudly preserved in songs
Always high feelings
Gusts of a virgin dream
And the charm of important simplicity
He sang love, obedient to love,
And his song was clear
Like the thoughts of a simple-hearted maiden,
Like a baby's dream, like the moon
In the deserts of the serene sky,
Goddess of secrets and gentle sighs.
He sang separation and sadness,
And something, and foggy distance,
And romantic roses;
He sang those distant countries
Where long in the bosom of silence
His living tears flowed;
He sang the faded color of life
Nearly eighteen years old.
In the desert, where one Eugene
Could appreciate his gifts,
Lords of neighboring villages
He didn't like feasts;
He ran their noisy conversation.
Their conversation is prudent
About haymaking, about wine,
About the kennel, about my family,
Of course, did not shine with any feeling,
No poetic fire
Neither sharpness nor intelligence,
No dorm arts;
But the conversation of their lovely wives
Much less intelligent.
Rich, good-looking, Lensky
Everywhere he was accepted as a bridegroom;
Such is the custom of the village;
All daughters read their
For a semi-Russian neighbor;
Will he ascend, immediately conversation
Turns the word around
About the boredom of single life;
They call a neighbor to the samovar,
And Dunya pours tea,
They whisper to her: "Dunya, note!"
Then they bring the guitar:
And she will squeal (my God!):
Come to my golden chamber!
But Lensky, not having, of course,
There is no hunting bond of marriage,
With Onegin I wished cordially
Acquaintance shorter to reduce.
They agreed. Wave and stone
Poetry and prose, ice and fire
Not so different from each other.
First, mutual differences
They were boring to each other;
Then they liked it; Then
Riding every day
And soon they became inseparable.
So people (I repent first)
Nothing to do friends.
But there is no friendship even between us.
Destroy all prejudices
We honor all zeros,
And units - themselves.
We all look at Napoleons;
There are millions of bipedal creatures
For us, there is only one tool;
We feel wild and funny.
Eugene was more tolerable than many;
Although he certainly knew people
And generally despised them, -
But (there are no rules without exceptions)
He was very different from others.
And he respected the feeling of others.
He listened to Lensky with a smile.
The poet's passionate conversation,
And the mind, still in unsteady judgments,
And eternally inspired look, -
Everything was new to Onegin;
He is a cool word
I tried to keep in my mouth
And I thought: it's stupid to disturb me
His momentary bliss;
And without me the time will come;
Let him live for now
Let the world believe in perfection;
Forgive the fever of youth
And youthful fever and youthful delirium.
Between them everything gave rise to disputes
And it got me thinking:
Tribes of past treaties,
The fruits of science, good and evil,
And age-old prejudices
And fatal secrets of the coffin,
Fate and life in turn
Everything was judged by them.
The poet in the heat of his judgments
Reading, forgetting, meanwhile
Fragments of northern poems,
And condescending Eugene,
Although I didn't understand them much,
Diligently listened to the young man.
(c) A.S. Pushkin
