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Dog's heart. Heart of a Dog Heart of a Dog story read online

It seems to have gone grayer lately. The crime matured and fell like a stone, as it usually does. With a sucking, bad heart, Poligraf Poligrafovich returned in the truck. The voice of Philip Philipovich invited him into the examination room. Surprised, Sharikov came in and, with vague fear, peered into the muzzle on the face of Bormental, and then of Philipp Philippovich. A cloud was moving around the assistant, and his left hand with the cigarette trembled slightly on the shiny arm of the obstetrician's chair. Philipp Philippovich said with a very ominous calm: “Now take your things, trousers, coat, everything you need, and get out of the apartment.” - How come? Sharikov was sincerely surprised. "Get out of the apartment today," Philipp Philippovich repeated monotonously, squinting at his fingernails. Some unclean spirit had taken possession of Polygraph Poligrafovich, obviously, death was already on guard for him and fate was behind him. He threw himself into the arms of the inevitable and barked angrily and abruptly: “What is it, really? What can I not find on you? I am sitting here on sixteen arshins and will continue to sit! "Get out of the apartment," whispered Philipp Philippovich strangledly. Sharikov himself invited his own death. He raised his left hand and showed Philip Philipovich a bitten cone with an unbearable cat smell. And then with his right hand, at the address of the dangerous Bormental, he took out a revolver from his pocket. Bormental's cigarette fell like a shooting star, and a few seconds later Philipp Philippovich, jumping over the broken glass, was rushing about in horror from the cupboard to the couch. On it, sprawled and wheezing, lay the head of the cleaning subsection, and the surgeon Bormental was placed on his chest and choked him with a small white pillow. A few minutes later, Dr. Bormenthal, not with his face, went to the front door and pasted a note next to the bell button: “Today there is no appointment due to the professor’s illness. Please do not disturb with calls. With a shiny penknife he cut the bell wire, in the mirror he examined his blood-scratched face and his tattered, trembling hands. Then he appeared at the door of the kitchen and said to the wary Zina and Darya Petrovna: “The professor asks you not to leave the apartment anywhere. “Good,” Zina and Darya Petrovna answered timidly. “Let me lock the door in the back door and take the key,” Bormental spoke, hiding behind the door into the shade and covering his face with his hand. “This is temporary, not out of distrust of you. But someone will come, but you can't stand it and open it, but you can't interfere with us, we are busy. “Good,” the women replied, and immediately turned pale. Bormenthal locked the back door, took away the key, locked the front door, locked the door from the corridor to the front, and his steps disappeared at the observation room. Silence covered the apartment, crept into all corners. Twilight crept in, nasty, wary, in a word - darkness. True, later neighbors across the courtyard said that it was as if in the windows of the observation room overlooking the courtyard all the lights were burning at Preobrazhensky that evening, and even as if they saw the white cap of the professor himself ... It is difficult to verify this. True, Zina, when it was all over, chatted that in the study, by the fireplace, after Bormental and the professor left the examination room, Ivan Arnoldovich scared her to death. Allegedly, he was squatting in the office and burning in the fireplace with his own hand a notebook in a blue cover from the pack in which the medical histories of the professor's patients were recorded. It was as if the doctor's face was completely green and everything, well everything, was scratched to smithereens. And Philip Philipovich did not look like himself that evening. And one more thing... However, maybe the innocent girl from Prechistenskaya's apartment is lying... You can vouch for one thing. There was complete and terrible silence in the apartment that evening. End of the story Epilogue Night on the night, ten days after the battle, a sharp bell rang in the observation room in Professor Preobrazhensky's apartment in Obukhov Lane. Zina was mortally frightened by voices outside the door: - The criminal police and the investigator. Kindly open. Footsteps ran, pounded, they began to enter, and in the sparkling reception room with newly glazed cabinets there was a mass of people. Two in police uniforms, one in a black coat with a briefcase, the malevolent and pale chairman Shvonder, a young woman, the porter Fyodor, Zina, Darya Petrovna, and half-dressed Bormental, bashfully covering his throat without a tie. The door from the office let Philip Philipovich through. He went out in the well-known azure dressing gown, and immediately everyone could be convinced at once that Philipp Philippovich had recovered greatly in the last week. The former imperious and energetic Philipp Philippovich, full of dignity, appeared before the night guests and apologized that he was in a dressing gown. "Don't be shy, Professor," the man in civilian clothes said very embarrassed. Then he hesitated and spoke: - Very unpleasant ... We have a search warrant in your apartment and ... - the man squinted at Philipp Philippovich's mustache and finished: - and arrest, depending on the results. Philipp Philippovich narrowed his eyes and asked: "On what charge, I dare to ask, and who?" The man scratched his cheek and began to read from a piece of paper from his briefcase: - On the charge of Preobrazhensky, Bormental, Zinaida Bunina and Daria Ivanova in the murder of the head of the cleaning subdepartment M. K. X. Polygraph Poligrafovich Sharikov. Zina's sobs covered the end of his words. There has been a movement. “I don’t understand anything,” answered Philipp Philippovich, shrugging his shoulders royally, “what kind of Sharikov is that? Ah, sorry, that dog of mine... whom I operated on? - Sorry, professor, not a dog, but when he was already a man. That's the problem. - So he said? asked Philip Philipovich. "That doesn't mean you have to be human!" However, it doesn't matter. Sharik still exists, and no one decisively killed him. “Professor,” the black man spoke in great surprise and raised his eyebrows, “then he will have to be presented.” The tenth day is gone, and the data, excuse me, is very bad. “Doctor Bormental, kindly show Sharik to the investigator,” ordered Philipp Philippovich, taking possession of the warrant. Dr. Bormental, smiling wryly, went out. When he returned and whistled, a dog of strange quality jumped out of the office door behind him. In patches he was bald, in patches his hair grew. He went out like a learned circus performer on his hind legs, then sank down on all fours and looked around. Deathly silence froze in the waiting room like jelly. The nightmarish-looking dog, with a purple scar on his forehead, rose again on his hind legs and, smiling, sat down in an armchair. The second policeman suddenly crossed himself with a sweeping cross and, stepping back, immediately crushed both Zina's legs. The man in black, without closing his mouth, uttered the following: - How, if you please? .. He served in the cleaning ... - I did not appoint him there, - answered Philipp Philippovich, - Mr. Shvonder gave him a recommendation, if I'm not mistaken . “I don’t understand anything,” the black man said in confusion and turned to the first policeman: “Is that him? “He,” the policeman answered soundlessly, “he is uniform. “He’s the same,” Fyodor’s voice was heard, “only, the bastard, has grown again. – He spoke?.. Khe... Khe... – And now he still talks, but only less and less, so take the opportunity, otherwise he will soon be completely silent. – But why? the black man inquired quietly. Philip Philipovich shrugged his shoulders. “Science does not yet know how to turn animals into people. So I tried, but only unsuccessfully, as you can see. He spoke and began to turn into a primitive state. Atavism! - Do not use indecent words! the dog suddenly barked from his chair and stood up. The black man suddenly turned pale, dropped his briefcase and began to fall on his side, the policeman caught him from the side, and Fyodor from behind. There was a commotion, and three phrases were most clearly audible in it: Philip Philipovich: “Valerian! It's fainting." Dr. Bormenthal: “I will personally throw Shvonder down the stairs if he appears again in Professor Preobrazhensky’s apartment!” And Shvonder: “I ask you to enter these words into the protocol!” The gray harmonies of the pipes warmed. The curtains hid the thick Prechistensky night with its lonely star. The supreme being, an important dog benefactor, was sitting in an armchair, and the dog Sharik, leaning back, was lying on the carpet near the leather sofa. From the March fog, the dog suffered from headaches in the morning, which tormented him with a ring along the head seam. But from heat by the evening they passed. And now it was getting better and better, and the thoughts in the dog's head were flowing warm and coherent. “I was so lucky, so lucky,” he thought, dozing off, “just indescribably lucky. I established myself in this apartment. I am finally convinced that my origin is unclean. There is no diver here. The slut was my grandmother. The kingdom of heaven to her, old woman. approved. True, the whole head was slashed for some reason, but it will heal before the wedding. We don't have to look at it." In the distance, flasks tinkled dully. The bitten one was cleaning up the cabinets in the examination room. The gray-haired wizard sat and sang: - "To the banks of the sacred Nile ..." The dog saw terrible things. Hands in slippery gloves important person immersed in a vessel, took out brains. The stubborn man persistently sought something in them, cut, examined, squinted and sang: - “To the banks of the sacred Nile ...” January - March 1925 Moscow Notes 1 Word of honor (from French parole d "honneur). 2 Later (German) 3 Good (German) 4 Careful (German) https://lbuckshee.com/ Bakshi buckshee forum Sports, auto, finance, real estate. healthy image life. http://petimer.ru/ Internet store, website Internet clothing store Internet shoe store Internet store http://worksites.ru/ Development of online stores. Creation of corporate sites. Integration, Hosting. http://filosoff.org/ Philosophy, philosophers of the world, philosophical currents. Biography http://dostoevskiyfyodor.ru/ site http://petimer.com/ Enjoy reading!

The events described in the work unfold in the winter of 1924-1925. A hungry and sick dog named Sharik freezes in the gateway. The Stolovo cook doused him with boiling water, and now Sharik's side hurts badly. The dog has lost trust in people and is afraid to ask them for food. The ball lies near the cold wall and waits for death.

But, smelling the smell of sausage, the dog crawls to unfamiliar man. He treats the animal, for which Sharik is infinitely grateful to the savior and trudges after him, trying to express his devotion. For this, the dog gets a second piece of sausage.

Soon the man and the dog approached beautiful house. The porter lets them inside, and the concierge informs Philipp Filippovich Preobrazhensky (the dog's savior) that new tenants have moved into one of the apartments.

Chapter 2

The ball was smart dog. He knew how to read and had no doubt that every dog could do it. True, the dog read not by letters, but by colors. For example, he knew that meat was being sold under a green and blue poster with the letters MSPO. A little later, Sharik decided to learn the alphabet. The letters "a" and "b" were easily remembered, thanks to the sign "Glavryba" on Mokhovaya Street. So a smart dog mastered the city.

The benefactor brought Sharik to his home. The door was opened by a girl in a white apron. The dog was struck by the atmosphere of the apartment, he especially liked the lamp on the ceiling and the mirror in the hallway. After examining Sharik's wound, the gentleman led him to the examination room. But here the dog did not like it, it was too bright. Sharik tried to escape by biting a man in a white coat. But it did not help. He was quickly caught and euthanized.

When the dog woke up, the wound no longer hurt. She was neatly processed and bandaged. Sharik began to listen to Philip Philipovich's conversation with a young man in a white coat. It was the professor's assistant, Dr. Bormenthal. They talked about dogs and how nothing can be achieved by terror. Then Philip Philipovich sent the girl for sausage for the dog.

When Sharik felt better, he went into his benefactor's room and settled down comfortably there. Patients came to the professor until late in the evening. Then representatives of the house administration appeared: Vyazemskaya, Pestrukhin, Shvonder and Zharovkin. Their goal is to take two rooms from the professor. But Philip Philipovich called an influential friend and asked for protection. After this call, the guests quickly left. This fact Sharik liked it, and he began to respect the professor even more.

Chapter 3

The dog was waiting for a chic dinner. Sharik ate roast beef with sturgeon to the bone and finished only when he could no longer look at food. This had never happened to him before. Then the benefactor talked about past times and current orders, and Sharik lay thoughtfully. It seemed to him that the last events were a dream. But it was a reality: for a short time Sharik recovered and became satisfied with the dog's life. He knew no limits in anything, and he was not scolded. We even bought a nice collar.

But one day Sharik felt something unkind. Everyone in the house was fussing, and Philipp Philippovich was very worried. Sharik was not allowed to eat or drink that day, he was locked in the bathroom. Then Zina dragged him into the examination room. From the eyes of the man in the white coat, Sharik realized that something terrible was about to happen. The poor fellow was sedated again.

Chapter 4

The ball lay on the operating table. First, the professor replaced his testicles with some other ones. Then he performed a brain appendage transplant. When Bormental realized that the dog's pulse was dropping, he pricked something into the region of the heart. After such a complex operation, no one thought that the dog would survive.

Chapter 5

But, despite the pessimistic forecasts, Sharik woke up. From the diary of Philip Philipovich, it became clear that an extreme operation was performed to transplant the pituitary gland. It will help to understand how this procedure affects the rejuvenation of the human body.

Sharik was getting better, but his behavior became rather strange. Wool fell out in clumps, pulse and temperature changed, he looked more and more like a man. Soon Sharik tried to pronounce the word "fish".

On January 1, it was recorded in the diary that Sharik could laugh, and sometimes said "abyrvalg", which meant "Main Fish". Over time, he began to walk on two legs. And Sharik began to swear. On January 5, the dog's tail fell off, and he uttered the word "beer house".

And rumors were already persistently spreading around the city about strange creature. One of the newspapers printed a legend about a miracle. Preobrazhensky admitted his mistake. He realized that pituitary transplantation does not rejuvenate, but humanizes. Bormental offered to take up the education of the dog. But the professor already knew that Sharik had adopted the habits and character of the man whose pituitary gland had been transplanted into him. It was the organ of the deceased Klim Chugunkin - a thief, a bully, a brawler and an alcoholic.

Chapter 6

Soon the dog turned into a little peasant, began to put on patent leather shoes, wear a tie blue color, met Comrade Shvonder, shocked Bormenthal and the professor with his behavior. The former Sharik behaved impudently and boorishly. He spat, got drunk, scared Zina and fell to sleep right on the floor.

Preobrazhensky tried to talk to him, but only aggravated the situation. The former dog asked for a passport in the name of Polygraph Poligrafovich Sharikov, and Shvonder demanded that the professor register a new tenant. I had to do everything.

The dog's past made itself felt when the cat made his way into the apartment. Sharikov tried to catch him, ran into the bathroom, but the lock accidentally clicked into place. The cat easily escaped, and the professor had to cancel all the patients in order to save Sharikov. In pursuit of the cat, Polygraph broke the taps, and water flooded the floor. Everyone was cleaning up the water, and Sharikov was swearing.

Chapter 7

At dinner, Preobrazhensky tried to teach Sharikov good manners, but in vain. He was a copy of the owner of the pituitary gland Chugunkin, who liked to drink, could not stand books and the theater. Bormenthal took Sharikov to the circus so that the house would have a little rest from him. During this time, Preobrazhensky came up with a plan.

Chapter 8

Sharikov was given a passport. Since then, he was even more rude, began to demand a separate room for himself. He calmed down only when Preobrazhensky threatened not to feed him.

Once Sharikov with two accomplices stole two gold pieces, a hat, a malachite ashtray and a commemorative cane from Philip Philipovich. The polygraph until the last did not admit to stealing. In the evening, Sharikov became ill and had to nurse him. Bormental was categorical and wanted to strangle the villain, but the professor promised to fix everything.

A week later, Sharikov disappeared along with his passport. They did not see him in the house committee. We decided to report it to the police, but it never came to that. The polygrapher showed up himself and said that he got a job. He was given the position of head of cleaning up the city from stray animals.

Soon Sharikov brought his bride to the house. The professor had to tell the girl the whole truth about the Polygraph. She was very upset that Sharikov lied to her all the time. The wedding did not take place.

Chapter 9

Once, one of his patients, a policeman, came to the doctor. He brought a denunciation paper drawn up by Polygraph. The case was hushed up, but the professor realized that there was nowhere to pull further. When Sharikov returned, Preobrazhensky showed him the door, but he got rude and took out a revolver. By this act, he finally convinced Philip Philipovich of the correctness of his decision. The professor canceled all appointments and asked not to disturb. Preobrazhensky and Bormenthal started the operation.

Epilogue

A couple of days later, representatives of the police came to the professor with Shvonder. They accused Preobrazhensky of Sharikov's murder. The professor showed them his dog. The dog, although it looked strange, walked on its hind legs, was bald, but there was no doubt that it was an animal. Preobrazhensky concluded that it was impossible to make a man out of a dog.

Sharik again happily sat at the feet of the owner, did not remember anything from what had happened and only occasionally suffered from a headache.

Chapter 1

Whooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooow! Oh look at me, I'm dying. A blizzard in the gateway roars my waste, and I howl with it. I'm lost, I'm lost. A scoundrel in a dirty hat is the cook of the canteen of normal food for employees of the central council National economy- splashed boiling water and scalded my left side.
What a reptile, and also a proletarian. My God, my God - how it hurts! Boiling water ate to the bone. Now I'm howling, howling, but howling help.
What did I do to him? Will I really devour the council of the national economy if I rummage through the rubbish heap? Greedy creature! Do you ever look at his face: after all, he is wider across himself. A thief with a copper muzzle. Ah, people, people. At noon, the cap treated me with boiling water, and now it's dark, about four o'clock around noon, judging by the smell of onions from the Prechistensky fire brigade. Firefighters eat porridge for dinner, as you know. But this is the last thing, like mushrooms. Familiar dogs from Prechistenka, however, told that on Neglinny in the restaurant "bar" they eat the usual dish - mushrooms, pikan sauce for 3r.75 k. Portion. This case for an amateur is the same as licking a galosh ... Oo-o-o-o-o ...
The side hurts unbearably, and the distance of my career is clearly visible to me: tomorrow ulcers will appear and, one wonders, how will I treat them?
In the summer you can hit the road to Sokolniki, there is a special, very good grass, and besides, you will get drunk on sausage heads for free, citizens will scribble greasy paper, you will get drunk. And if it weren’t for some kind of grumbling that sings in the meadow under the moon - “Darling Aida” - so that the heart falls, it would be great. Now where are you going? Didn't they hit you with a boot? Billy. Did you get a brick in the ribs? It's enough to eat. I have experienced everything, I am reconciled with my fate, and if I cry now, it is only from physical pain and cold, because my spirit has not yet died out ... The spirit of a dog is tenacious.
But my body is broken, beaten, people abused it enough. After all, the main thing is that - as he hit it with boiling water, it ate under the wool, and therefore there is no protection for the left side. I can very easily get pneumonia, and if I get it, I, citizens, will die of hunger. With pneumonia, one is supposed to lie on the front door under the stairs, and who will take the place of me, lying single dog, will run through weed boxes in search of food? A lung will catch, I will crawl on my stomach, I will weaken, and any specialist will knock me to death with a stick. And the janitors with badges will grab me by the legs and throw me onto a cart ...
Janitors are the most vile scum of all the proletarians. Human cleansing is the lowest category. The cook comes across different. For example - the late Vlas from Prechistenka. How many lives did he save? Because the most important thing during an illness is to intercept the cous. And so, it used to be, say the old dogs, Vlas waved a bone, and on it was an eighth of meat. The kingdom of heaven to him for what he was real personality, the lordly cook of Counts Tolstoy, and not from the Council of Normal Nutrition. What they do there in the Normal diet - the mind of a dog is incomprehensible. After all, they, the bastards, cook cabbage soup from stinking corned beef, and those poor fellows don’t know anything. They run, they eat, they lap.
Some typist gets four and a half chervonets in the IX category, well, really, her lover will give her phildepers stockings. Why, how much bullying she has to endure for this phildepers. After all, he does not in any ordinary way, but exposes her to French love. With ... these French, speaking between us. Though they burst richly, and all with red wine. Yes…
A typist will come running, because you won’t go to a bar for 4.5 chervonets. She does not have enough for cinema, and cinema is the only consolation in a woman's life. He trembles, frowns, and bursts ... Just think: 40 kopecks from two courses, and both of these dishes are not even worth five kopecks, because the supply manager stole the remaining 25 kopecks. Does she really need such a table? She has the apex of her right lung out of order and the female disease is on French soil, in the service they deducted from her, fed rotten meat in the dining room, here she is, here she is ...
Runs into the gateway in lover's stockings. Her legs are cold, her stomach is blowing, because her hair is like mine, and she wears cold trousers, one lace appearance. Rip for a lover. Put on her flannel, try it, he will scream: how inelegant you are! I'm tired of my Matryona, I've worn out with flannel pants, now my time has come. I am now the chairman, and no matter how much I steal, everything is on female body, on cancer necks, on Abrau-Durso. Because I was hungry enough in my youth, it will be with me, and the afterlife does not exist.
I pity her, I'm sorry! But I feel even more sorry for myself. Not out of selfishness I say, oh no, but because we really are not on an equal footing. At least it’s warm at home for her, but for me, and for me ... Where will I go? U-u-u-u-u!..
- Cut, cut, cut! A ball, a ball ... Why are you whining, poor thing? Who hurt you? Wow...
The witch, a dry blizzard, rattled the gates and drove the young lady on the ear with a broomstick. She fluffed her skirt up to her knees, exposed cream-colored stockings and a narrow strip of badly laundered lace underwear, strangled the words and swept the dog away.
Oh my God... What a weather... Wow... And my stomach hurts. It's corned beef! And when will it all end?
Bending her head, the young lady rushed to the attack, broke through the gate, and in the street she began to twirl, twirl, scatter, then screwed with a snow screw, and she disappeared.
And the dog remained in the gateway and, suffering from a mutilated side, pressed against the cold wall, suffocated and firmly decided that he would not go anywhere else from here, and would die in the gateway. Despair overwhelmed him. His heart was so painful and bitter, so lonely and frightening, that small dog tears, like pimples, crawled out of his eyes and immediately dried up.
The damaged side stuck out in frozen clods, and between them ominous red spots of scald looked. How senseless, stupid, cruel cooks are. - "Sharik" she called him ... What the hell is "Sharik"? Sharik means round, well-fed, stupid, eats oatmeal, the son of noble parents, and he is shaggy, lanky and torn, a fried hat, a homeless dog. However, thanks for the kind words.
The door across the street to the brightly lit shop slammed and a citizen emerged from it. It is a citizen, and not a comrade, and even - most likely - a master. Closer - clearer - sir. Do you think I judge by the coat? Nonsense. Coats are now worn by many of the proletarians. True, the collars are not the same, there is nothing to say about this, but still from a distance you can confuse. But in the eyes - here you can’t confuse both near and from afar. Oh, the eyes are a big thing. Like a barometer. Everything can be seen who has a great dryness in his soul, who for no reason, for nothing, can poke the toe of his boot into the ribs, and who himself is afraid of everyone. Here is the last lackey, and it is pleasant to poke at the ankle. If you're afraid, get it. If you are afraid, then you are standing ... Rrr ...
Go-go...
The gentleman confidently crossed the street in a blizzard and moved into the gateway. Yes, yes, you can see it all. This rotten corned beef will not be eaten, and if it is served to him somewhere, he will raise such a scandal, write in the newspapers: I, Philipp Philippovich, have been fed.
Here he is getting closer and closer. This one eats plentifully and does not steal, this one will not kick, but he himself is not afraid of anyone, and is not afraid because he is always full. He is a gentleman of mental labor, with a French pointed beard and a gray mustache, fluffy and dashing, like those of French knights, but the smell of a blizzard from him flies bad, like a hospital. And a cigar.
What the hell, one wonders, did he wear to the cooperative of Tsentrokhoz?
Here he is next ... What is he waiting for? Uuuuu… What could he buy in a crappy shop, is he not satisfied with the willing row? What's happened? Sausage. Sir, if you saw what this sausage is made of, you would not come close to the store. Give it to me.
The dog mustered the rest of his strength and crawled in a frenzy out of the doorway onto the sidewalk.
The blizzard clapped a gun overhead, tossed up the huge letters of the linen poster "Is rejuvenation possible?".
Naturally, perhaps. The smell rejuvenated me, lifted me from my belly, with burning waves cramped my empty stomach for two days, the smell that defeated the hospital, the heavenly smell of chopped mare with garlic and pepper. I feel, I know - in the right pocket of his fur coat he has a sausage. He is above me. Oh my lord! Look at me I'm dying. Our slavish soul, vile share!
The dog crawled like a snake on its belly, shedding tears. Pay attention to the chef's work. But you won't give anything. Oh, I know rich people very well! And in fact - why do you need it? Why do you need a rotten horse? You will not get such poison anywhere else, as in Mosselprom. And you had breakfast today, you, the size of world importance, thanks to the male gonads. Uuuuuu... What is this done in the world? It can be seen that it is still too early to die, and despair is indeed a sin. Lick his hands, nothing else remains.
The enigmatic gentleman leaned towards the dog, flashed his eyes with golden rims, and pulled out a white oblong bundle from his right pocket. Without taking off his brown gloves, he unwound the paper, which was immediately seized by a blizzard, and broke off a piece of sausage, called "special Cracow". And fuck this piece.
Oh, selfless person! Woo!
“Fit-fit,” the gentleman whistled and added in a stern voice:
- Take it!
Sharik, Sharik!
Sharik again. Baptized. Yes, call it what you want. For such an exceptional act of yours.
The dog instantly tore off the peel, bit into the Krakow one with a sob and ate it in a jiffy. At the same time, he choked on sausage and snow to tears, because of greed he almost swallowed the rope. Still, I still lick your hand.
Kiss your pants, my benefactor!
- It will be for now ... - the gentleman spoke so abruptly, as if he was commanding. He leaned over to Sharik, looked inquisitively into his eyes, and unexpectedly passed his gloved hand intimately and affectionately over Sharikov's belly.
“Aha,” he said meaningfully, “I don’t have a collar, well, that’s fine, I need you.” Follow me. He snapped his fingers. - Fit-fit!
Follow you? Yes, to the end of the world. Kick me with your felt boots, I won't say a word.
Lanterns were removed all over Prechistenka. The side hurt unbearably, but Sharik sometimes forgot about him, absorbed in one thought - how not to lose in the hustle and bustle a wonderful vision in a fur coat and somehow express love and devotion to him. And seven times throughout Prechistenka to Obukhov Lane, he expressed it. He kissed the little boat at Dead Lane, clearing the way, with a wild howl he so scared some lady that she sat down on the pedestal, howled twice to maintain self-pity.
Some kind of bastard cat-stray, made to look like a Siberian, emerged from behind a drainpipe and, despite the blizzard, smelled Krakow. The ball of light did not see at the thought that a rich eccentric, picking up wounded dogs in the gateway, would take this good thief with him, and he would have to share the Mosselprom product. Therefore, he clanged his teeth at the cat so much that with a hiss, similar to the hiss of a leaky hose, he climbed up the pipe to the second floor. – F-r-r-r… ha… y! Out! You can't save enough of the Mosselprom for all the riff-raff wandering around Prechistenka.
The gentleman appreciated the dedication of the fire brigade itself, at the window, from which the pleasant grumbling of a French horn was heard, rewarded the dog with a second smaller piece, five spools.
Eh, weirdo. Tempts me. Do not worry! I won't go anywhere myself.
I will follow you wherever you order.
– Fit-fit-fit! Here!
In Obukhov? Do me a favor. This lane is very well known to us.
Fit-fit! Here? With pleasure... Eh, no, let me. No. Here is the doorman. And there is nothing worse than this. Many times more dangerous than a janitor. Absolutely hateful breed. Crap cats. Liver in lace.
- Don't be afraid, go.
“I wish you good health, Philip Philipovich.
- Hello, Fedor.
This is what personality is. My God, who did you put me on, my dog's share! What kind of person is this who can lead dogs from the street past the porters into the house of a housing association? Look, this scoundrel - no sound, no movement! True, his eyes are cloudy, but, in general, he is indifferent under the band with gold galloons. It's like it's supposed to be. Respect, gentlemen, how respectful! Well, I'm with him and behind him. What touched? Take a bite.
That would be a poke at the proletarian callused leg. For all the bullying your brother. How many times did you mutilate my face with a brush, huh?
- Go, go.
We understand, we understand, don't worry. Where you are, there we are. You only show the path, and I will not fall behind, despite my desperate side.
Down stairs:
- There were no letters to me, Fedor?
Downstairs respectfully:
- Not at all, Philipp Philippovich (intimately in an undertone in pursuit), - but they moved the housemates into the third apartment.
An important canine benefactor turned sharply on the step and, leaning over the railing, asked in horror:
- Well?
His eyes widened and his mustache stood on end.
The porter from below lifted his head, put his hand to his lips and confirmed:
- That's right, four of them.
- My God! I imagine what will be in the apartment now. Well, what are they?
- Nothing, sir.
- And Fyodor Pavlovich?
- We went for the screens and for the bricks. Barriers will be installed.
- The devil knows what it is!
- In all apartments, Philipp Philippovich, they will move in, except for yours.
Now there was a meeting, they chose a new partnership, and the former - in the neck.
– What is being done. Ai-yay-yay ... Fit-fit.
I'm going, I'm in a hurry. Bock, if you please, makes itself known. Let me lick my boot.
The porter's galloon disappeared below. A breath of warmth from the chimneys blew on the marble platform, they turned again and now - the mezzanine.

Chapter 2

Learning to read is completely useless when the meat smells like that from a mile away. Nevertheless (if you live in Moscow and have at least some brains in your head), you willy-nilly learn to read and write, moreover, without any courses. Out of 40,000 Moscow dogs, is it possible that some complete idiot will not be able to put together the word "sausage" from the letters.
Sharik began to learn by colors. As soon as he was four months old, green and blue signs with the inscription MSPO - meat trade were hung all over Moscow. We repeat, all this is useless, because the meat is already heard. And the confusion once occurred: matching the bluish caustic color, Sharik, whose sense of smell was clogged with gasoline smoke from the engine, instead of a meat one, drove into the Golubizner brothers' electrical supplies store on Myasnitskaya Street. There, at the brothers, the dog tasted insulated wire, it will be cleaner than a cab driver's whip. This famous moment should be considered the beginning of the Sharikov formation. Already on the pavement, Sharik immediately began to realize that "blue" does not always mean "meat" and, pinching his tail between his hind legs and howling from burning pain, he remembered that on all meat stalls, the first on the left is a golden or red raskoryak, similar to a sled.
Further, it went even more successfully. He learned "A" in "Glavryba" at the corner of Mokhovaya, then "b" - it was more convenient for him to run up from the tail of the word "fish", because at the beginning of the word there was a policeman.
The tiled squares tiling the corner places in Moscow always and inevitably meant "cheese". The black faucet from the samovar, which led the word, denoted the former owner of the Chichkin, the mountains of Dutch red, the animals of the clerks who hated dogs, the sawdust on the floor and the vile, foul-smelling backstein.
If they played the harmonica, which was not much better than "Darling Aida", and smelled of sausages, the first letters on the white posters very conveniently formed the word "Nepril ...", which meant "do not express yourself with indecent words and do not give tea." Here, sometimes fights boiled up like a screw, people were punched in the face, sometimes, in rare cases, with napkins or boots.
If stale ham hams and tangerines lay in the windows ...
Gau-gau… ha… stronomy. If dark bottles with bad liquid ...
Ve-i-vi-na-a-guilt… Eliseev brothers former.
An unknown gentleman, dragging the dog to the door of his luxurious apartment, located in the mezzanine, rang, and the dog immediately looked up at a large black card with gold letters hanging on the side of a wide door glazed with wavy and pink glass. He added the first three letters at once: pe-er-o “pro”. But then there was a pot-bellied two-sided rubbish, it is not known what it means. "Really a proletarian"? - thought Sharik with surprise ... - "It can't be." He turned his nose up, sniffed his fur coat once more and thought confidently: “No, there is no smell of the proletariat here. A learned word, but God knows what it means.
An unexpected and joyful light flashed behind the pink glass, shading the black card even more. The door swung open quite silently, and a beautiful young woman in a white apron and lace cap appeared before the dog and his master. The first of them was doused with divine warmth, and the woman's skirt smelled like a lily of the valley.
“Wow, I understand that,” thought the dog.
“Please, Mr. Sharik,” the gentleman invited ironically, and Sharik reverently welcomed, wagging his tail.
A great variety of objects piled up the rich hallway. I immediately remembered a mirror up to the floor, which immediately reflected the second worn and torn Sharik, terrible deer antlers in height, countless fur coats and galoshes and an opal tulip with electricity under the ceiling.
“Where did you get such a thing, Philip Philipovich?” - the woman asked smiling and helped to take off a heavy fur coat on a black-brown fox with a bluish spark. - Fathers! How lousy!
- You're talking nonsense. Where is the lousy one? the gentleman asked sternly and curtly.
After taking off his fur coat, he found himself in a black suit of English cloth, and on his stomach a golden chain sparkled joyfully and dimly.
“Wait a minute, don’t fidget, fuck… Don’t fidget, fool.” Hm!.. These are not scabs… Wait, damn it… Hm! Ah. This is a burn. What kind of villain scalded you? A? Yes, you stand still! ..
"Cook, convict cook!" - the dog said with plaintive eyes and howled slightly.
“Zina,” commanded the gentleman, “to his examination room right away and give me a dressing gown.
The woman whistled, snapped her fingers, and the dog, after a little hesitation, followed her. Together they got into a narrow, dimly lit corridor, passed one varnished door, came to the end, and then got to the left and ended up in a dark closet, which the dog instantly did not like with its ominous smell. The darkness clicked and turned into a dazzling day, and from all sides it sparkled, shone and turned white.
“Uh, no,” the dog howled mentally, “Sorry, I won’t give in! I understand, the devil would take them with their sausage. They lured me to the dog hospital. Now the castor oil will be forced to eat and the whole side will be cut with knives, but you can’t even touch it anyway. ”
“Uh, no, where to?” - shouted the one who was called Zina.
The dog wriggled, bounced back, and suddenly hit the door with its healthy side so that it crackled all over the apartment. Then, he flew back, spun in place like head over heels under a whip, and turned a white bucket onto the floor, from which clods of cotton wool scattered. As he twirled, the walls fluttered around him, lined with cabinets of shiny tools, a white apron jumped up and a distorted female face.
“Where are you going, shaggy devil? ..” Zina shouted desperately, “that damned one!
"Where is their back staircase? .." - the dog thought. He swung and hit the lump at random on the glass, in the hope that this was the second door. A cloud of fragments flew out with thunder and ringing, a pot-bellied can of red muck jumped out, which instantly flooded the entire floor and stank. The real door opened.
“Stop, you brute,” the gentleman shouted, jumping in a dressing gown, put on one sleeve, and grabbing the dog by the legs, “Zina, hold him by the scruff of the scoundrel.
- Ba ... fathers, that's how the dog is!
The door opened even wider and another male figure in a bathrobe burst in. Crushing the broken glass, she rushed not to the dog, but to the closet, opened it and filled the whole room with a sweet and nauseating smell. Then the person fell on the dog from above with his stomach, and the dog enthusiastically nibbled it above the laces on his boot. The personality groaned, but was not lost.
The nauseating liquid caught the dog's breath and his head began to spin, then his legs fell off and he went somewhere crooked to the side.
“Thanks, it’s over,” he thought dreamily, falling right on the sharp glass:
- Farewell, Moscow! I will not see more Chichkin and the proletarians and the Krakow sausage. I'm going to heaven for dog patience. Brothers, knackers, why are you me?
And then he finally fell on his side and died.

* * *

When he resurrected, he was slightly dizzy and a little sick in his stomach, but it was as if there was no side, the side was sweetly silent. The dog opened his right languid eye and saw from the edge that he was tightly bandaged across his sides and stomach. “Still, they did, you sons of bitches,” he thought vaguely, “but cleverly, we must do them justice.”
- "From Seville to Grenada ... In the quiet twilight of the nights," a distracted and false voice sang over him.
The dog was surprised, completely opened both eyes and two steps away saw a man's leg on a white stool. Her trouser leg and underpants were tucked up, and her bare yellow shin was smeared with dried blood and iodine.
"Pleasers!" - thought the dog, - “It must be I bit him. My job. Well, they will fight!”
- "R-serenades are heard, the sound of swords is heard!" Why, you tramp, bit the doctor? A? Why did you break the glass? A?
“Uuuuuuh,” the dog whined plaintively.
- Well, okay, come to your senses and lie down, blockhead.
- How did you manage, Philipp Philippovich, to lure such nervous dog? asked pleasant male voice and the tricot underpants rolled down. There was a smell of tobacco and bottles clinked in the closet.
- Weasel-sir. The only way that is possible in dealing with a living being. Terror cannot do anything with an animal, at whatever stage of development it may be. This I affirmed, I affirm and I will affirm. They think in vain that terror will help them. No-sir, no-sir, it won't help, no matter what it is: white, red and even brown! Terror is completely paralyzing nervous system. Zina! I bought this scoundrel Krakow sausage for one ruble and forty kopecks. Take the trouble to feed him when he stops vomiting.
Sweeping glass crunched and female voice coquettishly remarked:
- Krakow! Lord, yes, he had to buy scraps for two kopecks in the meat. I'd rather eat the Krakow sausage myself.
- Just try. I'll eat you! It is a poison to the human stomach.
adult girl, but like a child you drag all sorts of filth into your mouth. Do not dare!
I warn you: neither I nor Dr. Bormenthal will bother with you when your stomach is seized ... “To everyone who says that the other here is equal to you ...”.
Soft, fractional bells were pouring all over the apartment at this time, and in the distance from the hall, voices were heard every now and then. The phone rang. Zina has disappeared.
Philipp Philippovich threw a cigarette butt into a pail, buttoned up his dressing gown, straightened his fluffy mustache in front of a mirror on the wall, and called out to the dog:
- Fuck, fuck. Well, nothing, nothing. Let's go take it.
The dog got up on unsteady legs, swayed and trembled, but quickly recovered and followed Philip Philipovich's fluttering coat. Again the dog crossed the narrow corridor, but now he saw that it was brightly lit from above by a rosette. When the lacquered door opened, he went into the study with Philip Philipovich, and he blinded the dog with his decoration. First of all, it was all blazing with light: it was burning under the stucco ceiling, it was burning on the table, it was burning on the wall, in the glass of the cupboards. The light flooded a whole abyss of objects, of which the most interesting was a huge owl sitting on a bough on the wall.
"Lie down," ordered Philip Philipovich.
The opposite carved door opened, and the bitten one came in, who now turned out to be very handsome in the bright light, young with a sharp beard, handed over a sheet and said:
- Former...
He disappeared noiselessly at once, and Philipp Philippovich, spreading the hem of his dressing-gown, sat down at a huge writing-table and at once became extraordinarily important and imposing.
“No, this is not a hospital, I ended up somewhere else,” the dog thought in dismay and leaned on the carpet pattern near the heavy leather sofa, “and we will explain this owl ...”
The door gently opened and someone entered, so startling the dog that he barked, but very timidly ...
– Shut up! Ba-ba, but you can’t be recognized, my dear.
The newcomer bowed very respectfully and embarrassedly to Philip Philipovich.
– Hee hee! You are a magician and a sorcerer, professor, he said in embarrassment.
"Take off your trousers, my dear," commanded Philipp Philippovich and got up.
“Lord Jesus,” thought the dog, “what a fruit!”
On the head of the fruit grew completely green hair, and on the back of the head they cast a rusty tobacco color, wrinkles spread on the face of the fruit, but the complexion was pink, like that of a baby. The left leg did not bend, it had to be dragged along the carpet, but the right leg jumped like a child's nutcracker. On the side of the most magnificent jacket, a precious stone stuck out like an eye.
From interest have dog even passed nausea.
Chiau, tiau! .. - he yapped lightly.
– Shut up! How are you sleeping, my dear?
- Hehe. Are we alone, professor? It's indescribable,” the visitor said embarrassingly. - Password Dyonner - 25 years nothing of the kind, - the subject took up the button of his trousers, - believe it, professor, naked girls in flocks every night. I am positively fascinated. You are a wizard.
"Hmm," Philipp Philippovich chuckled anxiously, peering into the guest's pupils.
He finally mastered the buttons and took off his striped trousers. Beneath them were never-before-seen underpants. They were cream-colored, with silk black cats embroidered on them, and they smelled of perfume.
The dog could not stand the cats and barked so that the subject jumped.
- Ai!
- I'll take you out! Don't be afraid, he doesn't bite.

Chapter 1

What is the book Heart of a Dog about? The ironic story of Bulgakov tells of a failed experiment by Professor Preobrazhensky. What is it? In search of an answer to the question of how to "rejuvenate" humanity. Does the hero manage to find the desired answer? No. But he comes to a result that is more important for society. high level significance than the intended experiment.

Kyivian Bulgakov decided to become a singer of Moscow, its houses and streets. This is how Moscow chronicles were born. The story was written in Prechistinskiye lanes by order of the Nedra magazine, which is well acquainted with the writer's work. The chronology of writing the work fits into three months of 1925.

As a doctor, Mikhail Alexandrovich continued the dynasty of his family, describing in detail in the book the operation to “rejuvenate” a person. Moreover, the well-known doctor in Moscow N.M. Pokrovsky, the uncle of the author of the story, became the prototype of Professor Preobrazhensky.

The first reading of the typewritten material took place at a meeting of the Nikitsky Subbotniks, which immediately became known to the country's leadership. In May 1926, the Bulgakovs were searched, the result of which was not long in coming: the manuscript was confiscated. The writer's plan to publish his work did not come true. The Soviet reader saw the book only in 1987.

Main problems

The book has not in vain disturbed the vigilant guardians of thought. Bulgakov managed to gracefully and subtly, but still quite clearly reflect the burning issues - the challenges of the new time. The problems in the story "Heart of a Dog" that the author touches on do not leave readers indifferent. The writer discusses the ethics of science, the moral responsibility of a scientist for his experiments, the possibility of disastrous consequences of scientific adventurism and ignorance. A technical breakthrough could turn into a moral decline.

Problem scientific progress is acutely felt at the moment of his impotence before the transformation of the consciousness of a new person. The professor coped with his body, but he could not control his spirit, so Preobrazhensky had to part with his ambitions and correct his mistake - to stop competing with the universe and return the dog's heart to the owner. Artificial people could not justify their proud title and become full members of society. In addition, endless rejuvenation could jeopardize the very idea of progress, because if new generations do not naturally replace the old ones, then the development of the world will stop.

Are attempts to change the country's mentality for the better really fruitless? The Soviet government tried to eradicate the prejudices of the past centuries - this is the process behind the metaphor for the creation of Sharikov. Here he is, the proletarian, the new Soviet citizen, his creation is possible. However, its creators face the problem of education: they cannot appease their creation and teach it to be cultured, educated and moral with a full set of revolutionary consciousness, class hatred and blind faith in the correctness and infallibility of the party. Why? This is impossible: either a pipe or a jug.

Human defenselessness in the whirlwind of events related to the construction of a socialist society, hatred of violence and hypocrisy, the absence and suppression of the remaining human dignity in all its manifestations - all these are slaps in the face with which the author branded his era, and all because it does not put a penny on individuality. Collectivization affected not only the village, but also the souls. It became more and more difficult to remain a person, because the public presented more and more rights to her. General equalization and equalization did not make people happier, but turned them into ranks of meaningless biorobots, where the most gray and mediocre of them set the tone. Rudeness and stupidity have become the norm in society, they have replaced revolutionary consciousness, and in the image of Sharikov we see a sentence for a new type of Soviet person. From the dominion of the Shvonders and their ilk arise the problems of trampling on intelligence and intelligence, the power of dark instincts in the life of an individual, total gross interference in the natural course of things ...

Some of the questions posed in the work remain unanswered to this day.

What is the meaning of the book?

People have long been looking for answers to the questions: What is a person? What is its public purpose? What role does everyone play in creating the environment that would be “comfortable” for those living on planet Earth? What are the "paths" to this "comfortable community"? Is it possible to reach a consensus between people of different social origins, holding opposite views on certain issues of being, occupying alternative "steps" in the intellectual and cultural development? And, of course, it is important to understand simple truth, which consists in the fact that society develops due to unexpected discoveries in a particular branch of science. But can these "discoveries" always be called progressive? Bulgakov answers all these questions with his characteristic irony.

A person is a person, and the development of a person implies independence, which is denied to a Soviet citizen. The social destiny of people is to masterfully do their job and not interfere with others. However, the "conscious" heroes of Bulgakov only chant slogans, but do not work for the benefit of their embodiment in reality. Each of us, in the name of comfort, must be tolerant of dissent and not prevent people from confessing it. And again in the USSR, everything is exactly the opposite, but the opposite: Preobrazhensky's talent is forced to fight to defend his right to help patients, and his point of view is brazenly condemned and persecuted by some nonentities. They can live in peace if everyone minds their own business, but there is no equality in nature and cannot be, because from birth we are all different from each other. It is impossible to maintain it artificially, since Shvonder cannot start operating brilliantly, and the professor cannot play the balalaika. Imposed, not real equality will only harm people, prevent them from adequately assessing their place in the world and occupying it with dignity.

Humanity needs discoveries, this is understandable. But you should not reinvent the wheel - try to reproduce a person artificially, for example. If the natural way is still possible, why does it need an analogue, and even such a laborious one? People are facing many other, more significant threats, to which it is worth turning the full power of scientific intellect.

Main Topics

The story is multifaceted. The author touches on important topics that are characteristic not only of the era of the early twentieth century, but are also “eternal”: good and evil, science and morality, morality, the fate of man, attitudes towards animals, building a new state, homeland, sincere human relations. I would especially like to highlight the theme of the responsibility of the creator for his creation. The struggle of ambition and adherence to principles in the professor ended with the victory of humanism over pride. He resigned himself to his error, admitted defeat, and used his experience to correct his mistakes. This is exactly what every creator should do.

Also relevant in the work is the theme of individual freedom and those boundaries that society, like the state, cannot cross. Bulgakov insists that a full-fledged person is one who has free will and beliefs. Only he can develop the idea of socialism without caricatured forms and offshoots that deform the idea. The crowd is blind and always driven by primitive stimuli. But a person is capable of self-control and self-development, she must be given the freedom to work and live for the good of society, and not set her against it with futile attempts at forcible merging.

Satire and humor

The book opens with a monologue of a stray dog, addressed to "citizens" and giving exact specifications Muscovites and the city itself. The population through the "eyes" of the dog is heterogeneous (which is true!): citizens - comrades - gentlemen. "Citizens" buy goods in the cooperative of the Centrokhoz, and "gentlemen" - in Okhotny Ryad. Why do rich people need a rotten horse? You can get this "poison" only in Mosselprom.

You can “recognize” a person by their eyes: who has “dryness in the soul”, who is aggressive, and who is a lackey. The last one is the most disgusting. If you are afraid, then you should be “punched”. The most vile "scum" - janitors: rowing "human cleaning".

But the cook is an important object. Nutrition is a serious indicator of the state of society. So, the lordly cook of Counts Tolstoy is a real person, and the cooks from the Council of Normal Nutrition do things that even a dog is indecent. If I became the chairman, then I actively steal. Ham, tangerines, wine - these are the “former Eliseev brothers”. The doorman is worse than cats. He lets a stray dog pass, currying favor with the professor.

The education system "assumes" Muscovites "educated" and "uneducated". Why learn to read? "Meat smells like a mile away." But if you have at least some brains, you will learn to read and write without courses, like, for example, a stray dog. The beginning of Sharkov's education was an electrician's shop, where a tramp "tasted" insulated wire.

The techniques of irony, humor and satire are often used in combination with tropes: comparisons, metaphors and personifications. special satirical device we can consider the way of the initial presentation of the characters according to the preliminary descriptive characteristics: “mysterious gentleman”, “rich eccentric” - Professor Preobrazhensky”; "handsome-bitten", "bitten" - Dr. Bormental; "someone", "fruit" - a visitor. Sharikov's inability to communicate with residents, to formulate his demands, gives rise to humorous situations and questions.

If we talk about the state of the press, then through the mouth of Fedor Fedorovich, the writer talks about the case when, as a result of reading Soviet newspapers before dinner, patients lost weight. An interesting assessment by the professor of the existing system through the “hanger” and “galoshes rack”: until 1917, the front doors were not closed, as dirty shoes and outerwear were left below. After March, all galoshes disappeared.

main idea

In his book M.A. Bulgakov warned that violence is a crime. All life on earth has the right to exist. This is an unwritten law of nature that must be followed in order to prevent a point of no return. It is necessary to preserve the purity of the soul and thoughts for life, so as not to indulge internal aggression, not to splash it out. That is why the professor's forcible intervention in the natural course of things is condemned by the writer, and therefore leads to such monstrous consequences.

The civil war hardened society, made it marginal, boorish and vulgar at its core. Here they are, the fruits of violent interference in the life of the country. All of Russia in the 1920s is a rude and ignorant Sharikov, who does not at all strive for work. His tasks are less lofty and more selfish. Bulgakov warned his contemporaries against such a development of events, ridiculing the vices of a new type of people and showing their failure.

Main characters and their characteristics

The central figure of the book is Professor Preobrazhensky. He wears gold-rimmed glasses. Lives in a rich apartment, consisting of seven rooms. He is alone. He devotes all his time to work. Philip Philipovich conducts a reception at home, sometimes he operates here. Patients call him a "magician", "sorcerer". “Creates”, often accompanying his actions with singing excerpts from operas. Loves the theatre. I am convinced that every person should strive to become a specialist in their field. The professor is a great speaker. His judgments line up in a clear logical chain. He says about himself that he is a man of observation, facts. Leading a discussion, he gets carried away, gets excited, sometimes turns to shouting if the problem touches him to the quick. The attitude towards the new system is manifested in his statements about terror, which paralyzes the human nervous system, about newspapers, about devastation in the country. Carefully treats animals: "hungry, poor fellow." In relation to living beings, he preaches only kindness and the impossibility of any violence. The suggestion of humane truths - the only way impact on all living things. Interesting detail in the interior of the professor's apartment there is a huge owl sitting on the wall, a symbol of wisdom, so necessary not only for a world-famous scientist, but for every person. At the end of the "experiment" finds the courage to admit that the experiment rejuvenation failed.
Young, handsome Ivan Arnoldovich Bormenthal, assistant professor, who fell in love with him, sheltered him as a promising young man. Philipp Philippovich hoped that a talented scientist would emerge from the doctor in the future. During the operation, literally everything flickers in the hands of Ivan Arnoldovich. The doctor is not just scrupulous about his duties. The doctor's diary, as a strict medical report-observation of the patient's condition, reflects the whole gamut of his feelings and experiences for the result of the "experiment".
Shvonder is the chairman of the house committee. All his actions resemble the convulsions of a puppet controlled by someone invisible. The speech is confused, the same words are repeated, which sometimes causes a condescending smile from readers. Shvonder doesn't even have a name. He sees his task in doing the will new government without thinking if it's good or bad. For the sake of achieving his goal, he is capable of any step. Vengeful, he distorts the facts, slanders many people.
Sharikov is a creature, something, the result of an “experiment”. A sloping and low forehead indicates the level of its development. Uses all swear words in his vocabulary. An attempt to teach him good manners, to instill a taste for beauty was not successful: he drinks, steals, mocks women, cynically insults people, strangles cats, “performs bestial acts.” As they say, nature rests on it, because you cannot go against it.

The main motives of Bulgakov's work

The versatility of Bulgakov's work is amazing. You seem to be traveling through the works, meeting familiar motifs. Love, greed, totalitarianism, morality are just parts of one whole, “wandering” from book to book and creating a single thread.

In "Notes on Cuffs" and in "Heart of a Dog" sounds faith in human kindness. This motif is also central in The Master and Margarita.
In the story "Diaboliad" the fate is clearly traced little man, an ordinary cog in the bureaucratic machine. This motif is typical for other works of the author. The system suppresses them in people best qualities, and the scary thing is that over time this becomes the norm for the people. In the novel The Master and Margarita, writers whose works did not correspond to the ruling ideology were kept in the "psychiatric hospital". Professor Preobrazhensky told about his observations, when he gave the patients to read the newspaper Pravda before dinner, they lost weight. It was impossible to find anything that would help broaden one's horizons and allow one to look at events from opposite angles in the periodical press.
Selfishness is what guides the majority negative characters Bulgakov's books. For example, Sharikov from "Heart of a Dog". And how many troubles could have been avoided, provided that the "red ray" would be used for its intended purpose, and not for selfish purposes (the story " Fatal eggs"")? The basis of these works are experiments that run counter to nature. It is noteworthy that Bulgakov identified the experiment with building socialism in the Soviet Union, which is dangerous for society as a whole.
The main motive of the writer's work is the motive of his native home. The comfort in the apartment of Philipp Philippovich ("a lamp under a silk shade") resembles the atmosphere of the Turbins' house. Home is a family, homeland, Russia, about which the writer's heart ached. With all his work, he wished well-being and prosperity to his homeland.

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