Money in Russian literature at the rate of the Central Bank of the Russian Federation. According to the text of L.N. Tolstoy "War and Peace" Nikolai Rostov's loss (The problem of the influence of music on a person) (USE in Russian) War and peace card debt
Municipal state educational institution
Sergeevskaya average comprehensive school
Podgorensky municipal district of the Voronezh region
Outline of an integrated lesson in the Russian language and
literature on
“Analysis of the episode “Nikolai Rostov after losing at cards to Dolokhov” from the novel by L.N. Tolstoy "Voun and the World" - an essay-reasoning on this passage in USE format»
Audience: 10th grade students
The lesson was developed by Bednyakova I.A.,
teacher of Russian language and literature
first qualification category.
School address:
Podgorensky district,
With. Sergeevka, st. Yesenina, 34
2013
The purpose of the lesson:
Activation of students' knowledge about reasoning texts and analysis;
Continue the formation of the ability to create a coherent written statement of a given type of speech on a specific topic;
Continue work on the formation of the skill of semantic analysis of the text: the formulation of the problem posed by the author of the read text; a comment; determination of the position of the author in relation to this problem; bringing arguments; conclusion.
Continue preparation for the state (final) certification (part C of the USE).
Lesson objectives:
Teach and Learn:
- determine the topic and problems of the text and formulate them;
Highlight the most significant (leading) problems of the text;
Comment on the problem;
Express your own position using two arguments.
Write a conclusion.
Materials and equipment:
computer, multimedia installation, video fragment from S. Bondarchuk's film "War and Peace", video camera; handout (texts of an excerpt from the novel "War and Peace", evaluation sheets.
During the classes
1. Introduction, goal setting.
Purpose of today's lesson
continue preparing for writing an essay-reasoning in the USE format based on the proposed text.
The lesson will result in essay-reasoning moral and ethical theme according to the read text - an excerpt from the novel
L. Tolstoy "War and Peace"
2. Watching the video clip "Nikolai Rostov after losing cards to Dolokhov."
Identify issues as you go. Students write down the problems on the sheets.
3. Independent reading of the text and identification of problems (pencil work):
1) It was not difficult to say “tomorrow” and maintain a tone of decency, but to come home alone, to see sisters, brother, mother, father, to confess and ask for money that you have no right to after this word of honor, it was terrible.
2) Haven't slept at home yet. 3) The youth of the Rostovs' house, having returned from the theater, had supper, sat at the clavichord. 4) As soon as Nikolai entered the hall, he was seized by that loving poetic atmosphere that reigned that winter in their house and which now, after Dolokhov’s proposal and Yogel’s ball, seemed to thicken even more, like the air before a thunderstorm, over Sonya and Natasha …
5) Natasha was going to sing. 6) Denisov looked at her with enthusiastic eyes.
7) Nikolai began to walk up and down the room.
8) “And here is the desire to make her sing! 9) What can she sing? 10) And there is nothing funny here, ”thought Nikolai.
11) Sonya took the first chord of the prelude.
12) "My God, I'm dishonest, I dead person. 13) A bullet in the forehead is the only thing that remains, and not to sing, he thought. - Leave? but where to? 14) All the same, let them sing!
15) Nikolai gloomily, continuing to walk around the room, looked at Denisov and the girls, avoiding their eyes.
16) That winter, Natasha began to sing seriously for the first time, and especially because Denisov admired her singing. 17) She sang now not like a child, there was no longer in her singing this comic, childish diligence that was in her before, but she still did not sing well, as all the expert judges who listened to her said. 18) “Not processed, but beautiful voice must be processed,” everyone said. 19) But they usually said this long after her voice had fallen silent. 20) At the same time, when this unprocessed voice sounded with incorrect aspirations and with efforts of transitions, even expert judges did not say anything and only enjoyed this unprocessed voice, and only wanted to hear it again. In her voice there was that virginity, untouchedness, that ignorance of her own strengths and that still unprocessed velvety, which were so combined with the shortcomings of the art of singing that it seemed impossible to change anything in this voice without spoiling it.
22) “What is this? thought Nikolai, hearing her voice and opening his eyes wide. - What happened to her? How does she sing today? he thought. 23) And suddenly the whole world for him concentrated in anticipation of the next note, the next phrase, and everything in the world became divided into three tempos: “Oh mio crudele affetto ... One, two, three... one, two... three... one... Oh mio crudele affetto... One, two three... one. Oh, our stupid life! thought Nikolai. - All this, and misfortune, and money, and Dolokhov, and malice, and honor - all this is nonsense ... but here it is - the real one ... Well, Natasha, well, my dear! Well, mother!.. How will she take this si... Did she take it? God bless. - And he, without noticing that he was singing, to strengthen this si, took the second in third high note. - My God! how good! Is this what I took? how happy!” he thought.
24) Oh, how this third trembled and how something better that was in the soul of Rostov was touched. 25) And this something was independent of everything in the world and above everything in the world. 26) What losses are there, and the Dolokhovs, and honestly! .. 27) It's all nonsense! 28) You can stab, steal, and still be happy ...
4. Text analysis. Preparing to write an essay. Front work.
1) What do you think the text is about? What is its theme?
On the state of Nikolai Rostov after losing at cards.
2) What are the main issues raised in the text.
Problems:
The severity of guilt from the deed;
conscience;
remorse;
Frivolity and cowardice;
Healing atmosphere in the family;
True and false values;
Salvation of the soul through communion with the beautiful;
The role of music in human life;
The influence of art on human life;
Love, kindness, understanding are the main family values;
What can save a person from a fatal step;
The inevitability of retribution for frivolity;
Male honor;
Words of honor for a man.
4. Let's recall the algorithm for executing part C:
Identify, formulate and comment on one of the problems of the text (main or particular).
Formulate your own attitude to the problem.
Choose arguments confirming your own position (at least two).
Write a conclusion.
5. Based on your readership and life experience, state own opinion on the problem. What arguments can you give?
6. Work on an essay in groups.
Choose a problem and write an essay-reasoning.
Problems should not be repeated.
Additional task:
Group 1 will formulate the problem in the form of a narrative sentence.
Group 2 - in the form of an interrogative.
Group 3 - uses a figure for the introduction - a nominative theme.
Group 4 - in the form of a series of interrogative sentences.
7. Public performance of students from working groups with the presentation of the finished essay.
8. Evaluation of the essay:
- the teacher checks the essay with red paste and puts it on the screen using a video camera and a multimedia projector;
- students from other groups put points on special sheets in accordance with the criteria K1-K12.
9. Summing up the lesson.
1. Final word teachers.
2. Grading students.
3. Reflection.
10. Homework: write an essay-reasoning on a problem that was not disclosed during the lesson based on the text read.
Why don't you play? Dolokhov said. And strangely, Nikolai felt the need to take a card, put a small sum on it and start the game.
There is no money with me, - said Rostov.
Rostov put 5 rubles on the card and lost, put another and lost again. Dolokhov killed, that is, he won ten cards in a row from Rostov.
Gentlemen, - he said, having swept some time, - I ask you to put money on the cards, otherwise I can get confused in the accounts.
One of the players said that he hoped he could be trusted.
You can believe, but I'm afraid to get confused; I ask you to put money on cards, - Dolokhov answered. "Don't be shy, we'll deal with you," he added to Rostov.
The game went on: the footman, without ceasing, served champagne.
All the cards of Rostov were beaten, and up to 800 rubles were written on it. He was about to write 800 rubles over one card, but while champagne was being served to him, he changed his mind and wrote again the usual kush, twenty rubles.
Leave it, - said Dolokhov, although he did not seem to be looking at Rostov, - you will soon win back. I give to others, but I beat you. Or are you afraid of me? he repeated.
Rostov obeyed, left the written 800 and placed a seven of hearts with a corner torn off, which he picked up from the ground. He remembered her well afterwards. He placed the seven of hearts, writing 800 above it in broken off chalk, in round, straight figures; drank the served glass of warmed champagne, smiled at Dolokhov's words, and with bated breath, waiting for the seven, began to look at Dolokhov's hands, holding the deck. Winning or losing this seven of hearts meant a lot to Rostov. On Sunday last week, Count Ilya Andreich gave his son 2,000 rubles, and he, who never liked to talk about financial difficulties, told him that this money was the last until May, and that therefore he asked his son to be more economical this time. Nikolai said that it was too much for him, and that he gave his word of honor not to take more money until spring. Now 1,200 rubles remained of this money. Therefore, the seven of hearts meant not only the loss of 1,600 rubles, but also the need to change this word. With bated breath, he looked at Dolokhov’s hands and thought: “Well, hurry up, give me this card, and I’ll take my cap, go home to dinner with Denisov, Natasha and Sonya, and surely there will never be a card in my hands.” At that moment, his home life, jokes with Petya, conversations with Sonya, duets with Natasha, a picket with his father, and even a quiet bed in the Cook's House, presented themselves to him with such force, clarity and charm, as if all this had long passed, lost and invaluable happiness. He could not allow that a stupid accident, forcing the seven to lie first on the right than on the left, could deprive him of all this newly understood, newly illuminated happiness and plunge him into the abyss of an as yet unexperienced and indefinite misfortune. It could not be, but he still waited with bated breath for the movement of Dolokhov's hands. These broad-boned, reddish hands, with hair visible from under their shirt, laid down a deck of cards and took up the glass and pipe being served.
So you're not afraid to play with me? repeated Dolokhov, and, as if to tell a merry story, he laid down his cards, leaned over on the back of his chair, and slowly began to tell with a smile:
Yes, gentlemen, I was told that there was a rumor in Moscow that I was a cheat, so I advise you to be more careful with me.
Well, swords! Rostov said.
Oh, Moscow aunts! - Dolokhov said and took up the cards with a smile.
Aaah! - Rostov almost shouted, raising both hands to his hair. The seven he needed was already at the top, the first card in the deck. He lost more than he could pay.
However, do not bury yourself, - said Dolokhov, glancing briefly at Rostov, and continuing to throw.
After an hour and a half, most of the players were already jokingly looking at their own game.
The whole game focused on one Rostov. Instead of sixteen hundred rubles, he had a long column of numbers written down, which he counted up to ten thousand, but which now, as he vaguely assumed, had already risen to fifteen thousand. In fact, the record already exceeded twenty thousand rubles. Dolokhov no longer listened and did not tell stories; he followed every movement of Rostov's hands and glanced briefly at his note behind him from time to time. He decided to continue the game until this record increased to forty-three thousand. This number was chosen by him because forty-three was the sum of his years combined with Sonya's. Rostov, leaning his head on both hands, sat in front of a table covered with writing, drenched in wine, littered with cards. One painful impression did not leave him: those broad-boned, reddish hands with hair visible from under his shirt, these hands, which he loved and hated, held him in their power.
“Six hundred rubles, an ace, a corner, a nine ... it’s impossible to win back! .. And how fun it would be at home ... Jack on a ne ... it can’t be! .. And why is he doing this to me? ... ”Rostov thought and recalled. Sometimes he played a big card; but Dolokhov refused to beat her, and he appointed the jackpot. Nicholas submitted to him, and then he prayed to God, as he prayed on the battlefield on the Amsteten bridge; now he guessed that the card that first fell into his hand from a pile of curved cards under the table would save him; either he calculated how many laces were on his jacket and with the same number of points he tried to bet the card on the whole loss, then he looked around at the other players for help, then he peered into Dolokhov’s now cold face, and tried to penetrate what was going on in it.
“Because he knows what this loss means to me. He can't want me to die, can he? After all, he was my friend. After all, I loved him ... But he is not to blame either; what should he do when he is lucky? It's not my fault, he told himself. I didn't do anything wrong. Have I killed someone, insulted, wished harm? Why such a terrible misfortune? And when did it start? Not so long ago, I approached this table with the idea of winning a hundred rubles, buying my mother this box for the name day and going home. I was so happy, so free, cheerful! And I did not understand then how happy I was! When did this end, and when did this new, terrible state begin? What marked this change? I still sat in this place, at this table, and also chose and put forward cards, and looked at these broad-boned, dexterous hands. When did this happen, and what happened? I am healthy, strong and still the same, and still in the same place. No, it can't be! Surely this will never end."
He was red-faced and covered in sweat, despite the fact that the room was not hot. And his face was terrifying and pitiful, especially due to the impotent desire to appear calm.
The record reached the fateful number of forty-three thousand. Rostov prepared a card, which was supposed to go at an angle from the three thousand rubles that had just been given to him, when Dolokhov, knocking with a deck, put it aside and, taking the chalk, began quickly with his clear, strong handwriting, breaking the chalk, to sum up Rostov's note.
Dinner time, dinner time! Here come the gypsies! - Indeed, with their gypsy accent, some black men and women were already entering from the cold and saying something. Nikolai understood that everything was over; but he said in an indifferent voice:
What, you won't? And I have a nice card prepared. - As if he was most interested in the fun of the game itself.
"It's over, I'm gone! he thought. Now a bullet in the forehead - one thing remains, ”and at the same time he said in a cheerful voice:
Well, one more card.
Good, - answered Dolokhov, having finished the result, - good! 21 rubles are coming, - he said, pointing to the number 21, which equaled 43 thousand, and taking a deck, he prepared to throw. Rostov obediently turned back the corner and instead of the prepared 6,000, he diligently wrote 21.
It's all the same to me, - he said, - I'm only interested to know whether you will kill or give me this ten.
Dolokhov seriously began to throw. Oh, how Rostov hated at that moment these hands, reddish with short fingers and hair visible from under his shirt, which had him in his power ... Ten was given.
You have 43 thousand behind you, count, - said Dolokhov and stood up from the table, stretching. “But you get tired of sitting for so long,” he said.
Yes, and I'm tired too, - said Rostov.
Dolokhov, as if reminding him that it was indecent for him to joke, interrupted him: When will you order me to receive the money, count?
Rostov flushed and called Dolokhov into another room.
I can’t suddenly pay everything, you will take the bill, - he said.
Listen, Rostov, - said Dolokhov, smiling clearly and looking into Nikolai's eyes, - you know the saying: "Happy in love, unhappy in cards." Your cousin is in love with you. I know.
"ABOUT! it's terrible to feel so at the mercy of this man, ”thought Rostov. Rostov understood what a blow he would inflict on his father and mother by announcing this loss; he understood what happiness it would be to get rid of all this, and understood that Dolokhov knew that he could save him from this shame and grief, and now he still wanted to play with him, like a cat with a mouse.
Your cousin ... - Dolokhov wanted to say; but Nicholas interrupted him.
My cousin has nothing to do with it, and there is nothing to talk about her! he shouted furiously.
So when do you get it? Dolokhov asked.
Tomorrow, - said Rostov, and left the room.
It was not difficult to say "tomorrow" and maintain a tone of propriety; but to come home alone, to see sisters, brother, mother, father, confess and ask for money to which you have no right after the given word of honor, it was terrible.
Haven't slept at home yet. The youth of the Rostovs' house, having returned from the theatre, had supper, sat at the clavichord. As soon as Nikolai entered the hall, he was seized by that loving, poetic atmosphere that reigned that winter in their house and which now, after Dolokhov's proposal and Yogel's ball, seemed to thicken even more, like the air before a thunderstorm, over Sonya and Natasha. Sonya and Natasha, in the blue dresses they wore at the theatre, pretty and knowing it, were happy and smiling at the clavichord. Vera and Shinshin were playing chess in the living room. The old countess, expecting her son and husband, was playing solitaire with an old noblewoman who lived in their house. Denisov with shining eyes and with disheveled hair he sat, throwing his leg back, at the clavichord, and clapping his short fingers on them, he took chords, and rolling his eyes, in his small, hoarse, but true voice, he sang the poem “The Enchantress” composed by him, to which he tried to find music .
Sorceress, tell me what power
Draws me to abandoned strings;
What kind of fire did you plant in your heart,
What delight spilled over the fingers!
Wonderful! Great! Natasha screamed. “Another verse,” she said, not noticing Nikolai.
“They have everything the same,” thought Nikolai, looking into the living room, where he saw Vera and his mother with an old woman.
A.S. Pushkin "The Captain's Daughter"
1773 - 15 rubles | 2015 - 140 000 rubles
Remember Savelich from " captain's daughter”: it was he who estimated the hare sheepskin coat, donated in 1773 by Petrusha Grinev to the robber Pugachev, at 15 rubles. Savelich is a serf serf who simultaneously works as a nanny, security guard, quartermaster, and accountant under Petrush. For him, he was a real economist.
As Grinev himself writes, Savelich was “a protector of money, underwear, and my deeds” (here Pushkin quotes Petrusha’s contemporary, Fonvizin). From the end of the 18th century to the beginning of the 21st century, the idea of how long clothes should last has changed dramatically. The hare sheepskin coat of that time, with proper storage and use, served for 20 and 30 years, the uniform - 10 years or more. In any case, it is not a big lie to say that clothes were worn then about ten times longer than they are now.
Here Savelich climbs in the ninth chapter under the arm of the impostor Pugachev with a register of linen, clothes and bed lost by Grinev during the capture Belogorsk fortress. In the total price of all these rags (this is 90.5 rubles), the famous sheepskin coat is one-seventh.
In the expenses of modern Muscovites (and Grinev, undoubtedly, can navigate the cost of clothing for residents of the capital - although he is a provincial, he is not at all poor) clothing is about 10-15% of expenses, or about 100 thousand modern rubles a year. Now Grinev would have spent about 1 million rubles on everything lost. (you need to buy 10 times more), and a hare sheepskin coat, based on this, would be the equivalent of 140 thousand rubles. And indeed - an expensive gift for a tramp.
Hermann win
A.S. Pushkin "The Queen of Spades"
OK. 1830 - 396,000 rubles | 2015 - 2 500 000 000 rubles
For some reason, it is customary to rank Hermann among the circle of small people who are all completely poor, but Pushkin's joke about the small capital that Hermann inherited from his father, a Russified German, is nothing more than a joke.
Having received from the ghost of the old woman an indication of three correct cards, Hermann in the first game with Chekalinsky puts on the card, in this case a three, a "bank note" - 47 thousand rubles. Obviously, it was not a bill with an incredible denomination, but something like a certificate from the bank on the state of the account. The non-circularity of the sum of the first day of the game is a clear indication that Hermann is putting all his "little capital" at stake.
That is, Hermann is anyone, but not a poor man. Yes, and they would not let the poor man play either in the horse guard barracks, or in the brand new, brand new, salon of the millionaire Chekalinsky - the owner of the house did not have a question about who this Hermann was, Hermann was asked not to stand on ceremony.
On the seven, the hero wins 96 thousand rubles, and don't pull yourself together Pushkin's hero(about this word " Queen of Spades” dozens of texts were written), his capital on the third night would have been 396 thousand rubles.
From the time of the Middle Ages to the time of Pushkin, the usual interest on capital fell from 10-11% per annum to 4-5%: Hermann, had he given up the idea of sacrificing the necessary in the hope of acquiring the superfluous, he could spend about 2 thousand rubles of income received on capital per year, without even indulging in the risks of commercial ventures. Hermann's dream is to have 15-20 thousand rubles a year: tenths and hundredths of a percent of the population of the Russian Empire could boast of such fortunes.
Today it is not difficult for us to understand Hermann: he wants from a simply rich man who inherited some miserable $4-5 million in a bank to have $40 million, having won it from the multimillionaire Chekalinsky. Or, if we count in rubles, 2.5 billion rubles. Chekalinsky, by the way, was afraid of losing to Hermann on the third day, but if Hermann had won, he certainly would not have gone crazy.
But let's forget for a second about Hermann's crazy dreams, remember his real salary and career. Pushkin says nothing about them; we know, however, that he is an engineer. In his time, this meant - a military engineer, most likely a graduate of the Military Engineering School in St. Petersburg; the annual graduation in those years - no more than 50 officers a year, a rare profession. Question great career for Hermann, it's just a matter of time. Although in Nikolaev Russia they no longer favor villages, as under Catherine, 20 years after 1830, becoming a general for a military builder with an education and increasing capital, if not ten, but two or three times, is more than usual. Yes and in modern Russia- also: military construction, the Spetsstroy system, did not become less profitable: in the 19th century they built bridges, in the 21st - the Vostochny cosmodrome, and no one was left behind. So Hermann would have had his $10 million anyway.
Lefty's fee for work on a flea
N.S. Leskov "Lefty"
1826 - 100 rubles | 2015 - 800 000 rubles
In fact, the Tula oblique Lefty is an engineer at a defense enterprise. The fate of the Russian military-industrial complex did not bother Russian literature, at least before the invention of socialist realism, and Nikolai Leskov did not really think about how much the defense industry costs the Russian budget. But the story created is very relevant to this day.
So, the plot is this. A young employee of a defense enterprise in the city of Tula receives an important task from allies from the group of forces in the North Caucasus: to demonstrate to the top state-party leadership the superiority of domestic technologies in the defense industry over Western ones. The problem is brilliantly solved, and the engineer is sent to the UK for further training. Lefty does not show much interest in British industry (although he notes something important), and on the way back he generally falls into a binge.
An engineer in delirium tremens, with a skull fracture and, apparently, with lobar pneumonia, is sent to the district clinic. His message to the state-party leadership about the unique British know-how, which can significantly improve the accuracy of small arms fire, is not heard by the commander in chief. The result is the lost Crimean War.
It is known that Ataman Platov gave the left-hander 100 rubles for horseshoes attached to this nymphosoria in the Russian arms capital. Therefore, it is interesting how Lefty felt in London with such capital. 100 rubles is about 16 British pounds of that time, that is, the wages of the poorest Britons (more than 50% of the country's population) for 7-8 months. So despite the fact that Albion was then about three times richer than Russia, Lefty in London, drinking with a half-skipper, must have felt like a completely solvent drunkard by world standards.
And what would 100 rubles be for Lefty in Russia? There is no qualitative data on how many workers, and even more so engineers, were in Russia at that time (probably about 150-200 thousand - and 4-5 thousand engineers for the whole country), but, unlike Britain, they income from the peasants did not differ. 100 rubles would have allowed Lefty, if not for his London spree, not to work at home for 3-4 years, keeping the usual expenses.
In terms of the average salary in Tula in 2014 - about 25 thousand rubles - Levsha received about 800 thousand rubles from Platov for shoeing a flea. current rubles.
Bribe to Khlestakov from Gorodnichiy
N.V. Gogol "Inspector"
1831 - 200 rubles | 2015 - 200 000 rubles
The district center is the center of Russian life, and the city run by Anton Skvoznik-Dmukhanovsky is the district center. Traditionally in Russia, the status of the city is overestimated, in which Khlestakov finds himself without money in a hotel, but the county in the current sense is municipal area or county, not region.
If you understand this, then many things fall into place. In district centers that know how to live in peace with the regional authorities, but are afraid of everything from the federal level to the point of panic, the appearance of a person who is familiar with the heads of departments of the Ministry of Finance, assistant auditors Accounts Chamber, ordinary employees of the Prosecutor General's Office - this is always a plague on the horizon. But what if he really is an investigator of the Investigative Committee or an employee of the department domestic policy AP? After all, we will all sit down - the Russian Post, the Ministry of Emergencies, and social security.
Therefore, when Khlestakov (now he would, of course, hint at serving in the FSB or the FSO - so the stakes are higher) asks Anton Antonovich for a loan for the first time, he can only breathe a sigh of relief. 200 rubles in banknotes (four times less than in silver) - is this really a big bribe? The food minimum in Russia was then provided with an income of 1.5-2 rubles of silver per month: if we consider this minimum for the regions of the Russian Federation now equal to 7-8 thousand rubles. (this is usually the case), then Khlestakov, who spent money on the road, immediately received a loan for petty expenses of the current 200 thousand rubles.
For people who fictitiously issue building materials for the construction of a city bridge for 20 thousand rubles (now it is 15-20 million rubles), this is, in essence, nonsense. But Khlestakov’s stories about how much he receives in advance from the publisher Smirdin for his writings ($ 700-800 thousand for today’s money, but they wouldn’t give Gogol at Eksmo so much now!), Show that about real money 23- a summer official from St. Petersburg has already heard. Well, as we remember, he borrowed not only from the mayor, so "together it exceeded a thousand."
But even now in the district center you will not receive a bribe of more than 1.5-2 million rubles. It is these amounts that now usually appear in criminal cases on regional bribery. To make a fortune in the provinces, one must be part of the process of regional corruption - the auditor can only count on a week of luxurious life.
For so many Raskolnikov killed the old money-lender
F.M. Dostoevsky "Crime and Punishment"
1865 - 317 rubles | 2015 - 320 000 rubles
Raskolnikov's extraction - 317 rubles. 60 kopecks: this is exactly how much was in the purse of the old pawnbroker, placed by him under a conspicuous stone after a double murder and robbery.
Accurate statistics on the poorest strata of the population we have only for 1901. Raskolnikov, who previously studied as a lawyer, is included in the lower decile of the population in terms of income: at the beginning of the 20th century, these were artisans, workers, beggars, prisoners. For 50 years, national incomes in Russia have increased by 60%, we are unlikely to be mistaken in saying that from the time of Raskolnikov to the beginning of the new century, the incomes of the poorest segments of the population of Russia increased to a statistically recorded 161 rubles. per year from the amount that he actually had a year is 100 rubles.
So, the old pawnbroker kept Raskolnikov's three-year income in her purse. In 2013, according to a study by the Institute of Sociology of the Russian Academy of Sciences, 23% the poorest people Russia had a median monthly income of about 8.8 thousand rubles. Raskolnikov's three-year income would now be 320,000 modern rubles.
So much Nastasya Filippovna threw into the fireplace
F.M. Dostoevsky "The Idiot"
1868 - 100,000 rubles | 2015 - 8 000 000 000 rubles
"Idiot" is completely lined with banknotes: "rubles" are mentioned there at random in seven dozen places, and "millions" - in another three dozen. Meanwhile we are talking about the second half of the 1860s. After the abolition of serfdom, society was mixed up so that the two (supposedly) millions of inheritances of Prince Myshkin, who was treated in Switzerland at a neurological clinic, interfere with either quarters, then four hundredths, then three rubles, then two thousand, and the owners of all these sums are so intermingled with each other, that the price of money is decidedly indeterminate.
It is also impossible to determine the place of Prince Lev Nikolaevich in this new Russia. If what they write about Myshkin in newspaper libels is at least partly true (and they write there that he has about 30 million rubles of fortune), he is one of 1.5 thousand Russian people, who accounted for about 6-7% Russia's national income. Now the annual cash income of the entire 145 millionth Russia is about 40 trillion. rubles, that is, if the rumors are true, the prince is the owner of the equivalent of the current $ 35 billion. However, Myshkin himself says that in reality he actually has eight to ten times less, that is, about $ 4 billion today.
That is, the idiot Myshkin, who is absolutely not interested in money, still knows how much he has. Therefore, the 100,000 rubles that Nastasya Filippovna threw into the fireplace to be burned is a considerable amount, by any consideration, but Myshkin, looking at this fireplace, is not amazing. In a lit pack (as we remember, it was pulled out almost uninjured) about 30 times less than he has: according to the current account - about $ 130 million in cash. Now this would not fit into any fireplace: 8 billion rubles.
So many Nikolai Rostov lost to Dolokhov
L.N. Tolstoy "War and Peace"
1806 - 43,000 rubles | 2015 - 70 000 000 rubles
Of course, Nikolai's father, Count Ilya Andreevich, was in the civil service before retiring - and, based on his environment, now his place of work is similar to XVIII century, would be the administration of the President of the Russian Federation.
The world of the Rostovs is the world of several hundred families that own and control most of the country. In this circle, for example, Pierre Bezukhov and Prince Vasily are waiting for a large inheritance - "forty thousand souls and millions", this is obviously more than what Nikolai Rostov can ever count on. Between Nikolai and Pierre, the barrier that separates very rich people in Moscow in 2015 from people from Forbes list. The Rostovs have a maximum of ten thousand souls and hundreds of thousands of rubles in annual income.
Of course, at that time the nobles were richer: the Russian nobility in the early 1800s had a hundred or even two hundred years of history, while the post-Soviet - in best case 30 years. But the principles are the same - marriages within one's own circle, the multiplication of family fortunes by prominent representatives of the family and squandering by ordinary ones. And, of course, we know that by no means every person who made a career in the administration of President Boris Yeltsin in the 1990s now has a business worth $150-200 million: more often it is $30-50 million.
Ilya Rostov gives his son Nikolai 2 thousand rubles for several months for expenses - now it would be $ 50 thousand. Nikolai Dolokhov loses 20 times more - that is, about $ 1 million. It is clear that Ilya Andreevich will collect this amount in a few days and finally she will not ruin the Rostov family.
In a bank that would serve the Rostovs in the 21st century, they would know: undoubtedly, these are still very rich people.
So much was promised to the one who remembers the horse's name
A.P. Chekhov "Horse surname"
OK. 1880 - 5 rubles | 2015 - 10 000 rubles
The retired Major General Buldeev in the "Horse Family" is not at all like representatives of the brilliant aristocracy early XIX centuries, throwing the bank at thousands of imperials. But Buldeev has big house, and five rubles, which he promises to anyone who remembers the name of a former excise official from Saratov, is definitely not money for him. After all, the exciseman knows how to speak his teeth even at a distance!
But what is five rubles for those who follow the clerk Ivan Evseich in droves, who, in fact, should remember horse name excise? Buldeev's house is a couple of dozen people, a mini-enterprise for servicing a retired high-ranking military man and his family. It's a common thing, it's the same way now with many retired generals in the provinces, maybe a little less servants.
According to Stepanov's "Experience in Calculating the National Income" published in 1906, the average monthly income of servants and day laborers in Russia in 1901, not so far removed from Buldeev's time, was 10 rubles. 43 kop. Wage provincial hairdresser or plumber is not the best is now about 20-25 thousand rubles. Anyone who remembers the name of Yakov Ovsov could get a prize of about 10 thousand rubles.
But he didn’t get it: Buldeev was cured by a zemstvo doctor, whose annual income is late XIX century was 1200-1500 rubles a year.
Now it would be 150-190 thousand rubles. It is not known about the earnings of the Saratov folk healer Ovsov.
So much public money wasted by Lara's brother
B.L. Pasternak "Doctor Zhivago"
1910 - 700 rubles | 2015 - 750 000 rubles
“Rodya! No, you're crazy! Do you understand what you are saying? You lost seven hundred rubles? Rodya! Rodya! Do you know what time ordinary person like me, can earn such a sum with honest labor?
So said young Lara, the future Larisa Antipova, to her brother Rodion, who lost almost this amount of public money in cards. Lara is the daughter of a Belgian engineer and a Russified French woman: if her father were alive, Rodion would not have to frighten his sister that he would shoot himself.
Father, who worked in the Urals, then received no less than foreign drilling specialists in Tyumen today. But the father is no more, and Amalia Guichard, the widowed mother of Rodion and Lara, lives a middle-class life in 1910, having her own sewing workshop in Moscow. Her income is obviously less than the income of 10% the richest people in Russia at the beginning of the century: on average, they amounted to 934 rubles a year for this group in 1901-1904. In contrast, the poorest 10% earned, on average, a maximum of 214 rubles. Rodion's card debt is 700 rubles, that is, the income of his family (let's forget about alternative sources of funds for Amalia Guichard, because we are talking about honest work) in about two years.
The Guichard family is a fairly typical family of a small entrepreneur: in modern Russia it is called a micro-enterprise (up to 15 employees), its annual turnover is maximum - 60 million modern rubles a year; Let's assume that in the case of the sewing workshop of Lara and Rodi's mother - 5 million rubles. 400 thousand rubles revenue per month, several hired seamstresses. A 15 percent profitability of this business can be considered normal by today's standards: in two years, all Guichard's income would now amount to 750 thousand rubles.
So many Sharikov stole from Professor Preobrazhensky
M.A. Bulgakov "Heart of a Dog"
1924 - 2 chervonets | 2015 - 5 500 rubles
The stolen two chervonets marked the beginning of a grandiose booze of the main experimental subject in Bulgakov's " dog heart". It is worth asking the true scope of this booze.
The term "Chervonets" is a typical "false friend of the translator": it is not "ten rubles", but the name of the banknote, the same as the ruble or dollar, in any case, the signature of the chairman of the board of the State Bank of the RSFSR in 1922 was put on a bill on which it was written in black and white: "One chervonets". The chervonets was backed by gold and, in essence, was tied to the royal golden ten (for some time it was exchanged for a metal coin similar to the royal “lobanchik”), the ruble was not. The exchange rate of the ruble against the chervonets fluctuated until the following spring, and only in 1925 was a firm and customary rate really established, which remained until the last issue of this hard currency in 1937: for one chervonets - ten ordinary rubles. But by this time Sharikov was already finished.
At least for alcohol and snacks, the prices of 1924 were set in rubles, and not in chervonets. Peasants, the main producers of moonshine and alcohol suppliers in Moscow, had rubles. The state monopoly on vodka was introduced only in 1925. Criticized by Preobrazhensky, the "rykovka" appeared in December 1924, it cost a ruble five kopecks for half a liter - moonshine, according to numerous sources, was half the price. One way or another, Sharikov was able to buy about 15 liters of vodka with an unpretentious snack with the stolen two gold pieces. And you can be sure: since he was able, therefore, he acquired it.
The minimum price of vodka (and Sharikov and his friends, of course, used the cheapest) in 2015 is 185 rubles. for a pint. Thus, now, for the same purposes, without five minutes, an employee of the cleaning department of the communal farm at a feast, which cost two chervonets in 1924, would have spent about 5,500 rubles.
The salary of the typist Vasnetsova, who almost married Sharikov, tempted by his wealth, was 4.5 chervonets per month - 12,750 modern rubles. For an operation at home to insert a monkey's ovaries into an elderly lady, Philip Filippovich Preobrazhensky asked, in our opinion, 137,500 rubles.
This is how much Koroviev gave to Nikanor Bosom in foreign currency
M.A. Bulgakov "The Master and Margarita"
OK. 1930 - $400 | 2015 - $9 000 rubles
Nikanor Bosoy, Deputy Head of Municipal Unitary Enterprise Management Company "ZhKH-Service" of the Central Administrative District of Moscow. In vain do you think that the head of the housing association Bosoy, to whom Koroviev gives a bribe of 400 rubles in The Master and Margarita (they turn into $ 400 in the toilet ventilation - an excellent rate!), Is a simple and humorous character.
Nikanor is a person who occupies an extremely strong social position. In Moscow in the early 1930s, only those who, in Moscow in the 2010s, were prepared and served by servants, and not by their wife, could afford to dine in the “small dining room” of a separate apartment. About gravity housing issue in Stalinist Moscow, we know, in particular, from the literary strife described in the novel - non-communal housing was given only to the most trusted. (There were doubts about Osip Mandelstam, the doubt was interpreted in favor of the person under investigation. They gave him an apartment - and how did he repay?
In addition, one must understand: Nikanor is not just the head of a housing association. The house he manages is, in essence, cooperative (this is still normal for the early 30s), and therefore it is possible to rent apartments in it to a foreigner. Therefore, 400 rubles of a bribe (and in fact, not a bribe, but simply a gift to Bosom) is by no means a lot of money. Ordinary. Legal income per month, no more. $400 is another matter. Even the pack comes out solid: in those days, few people in Europe saw a bill with a face value of more than $20, except for bankers, most likely, these were $5 and $10 bills, the most popular among real currency traders. In the North American United States, as a superintendent of a residential condominium, Bosoy would have earned this money in three to four months - in New York, the annual salary of a person in the same occupation was $ 1,500 in 1932. But there is no need to exaggerate. At the rate of $400 of that time, taking into account inflation in the United States, this is now $9 thousand: you cannot buy a house.
] and going to the army, then this evening I give my friends a farewell feast - come to the English hotel. Rostov at ten o'clock, from the theater, where he was with his friends and Denisov, arrived on the appointed day at the English Hotel. He was immediately taken to the best room in the hotel, occupied by Dolokhov that night.
About twenty people crowded around the table, in front of which Dolokhov sat between two candles. Gold and banknotes lay on the table, and Dolokhov threw the bank. After the proposal and refusal of Sonya, Nikolai had not yet seen him and was confused at the thought of how they would meet.
Dolokhov's bright, cold gaze met Rostov at the door, as if he had been waiting for him for a long time.
Long time no see, he said, thank you for coming. That's just home, and Ilyushka will appear with the choir.
I stopped by to see you, ”said Rostov, blushing.
Dolokhov did not answer him.
You can deliver, he said.
Rostov remembered at that moment a strange conversation he had once had with Dolokhov. “Only fools can play for happiness,” Dolokhov said then.
Or are you afraid to play with me? Dolokhov said now, as if he had guessed Rostov's thought, and smiled. Because of his smile, Rostov saw in him the mood of the spirit that he had during dinner at the club and in general at those times when, as if bored with everyday life, Dolokhov felt the need to go out by some strange, mostly cruel act. from her.
Rostov felt uncomfortable; he searched and did not find in his mind a joke that would answer Dolokhov's words. But before he could do this, Dolokhov, looking straight into Rostov's face, slowly and deliberately, so that everyone could hear, said to him:
Do you remember, we talked about the game with you ... a fool who wants to play for happiness; I should probably play, but I want to try.
“Try to play for luck or maybe?” thought Rostov.
And it’s better not to play, ”he added, and, cracking a torn deck, said:“ A bank, gentlemen!
Pushing the money forward, Dolokhov prepared to throw it. Rostov sat down beside him and at first did not play. Dolokhov looked at him.
Why don't you play? Dolokhov said. And strangely, Nikolai felt the need to take a card, put a small sum on it and start the game.
There is no money with me, - said Rostov.
I will believe!
Rostov put five rubles on the card and lost, put another and lost again. Dolokhov killed, that is, he won ten cards in a row against Rostov.
Gentlemen, - he said, having swept some time, - I ask you to put money on the cards, otherwise I can get confused in the accounts.
One of the players said that he hoped he could be trusted.
You can believe, but I'm afraid to get confused; I ask you to put money on cards, - Dolokhov answered. "Don't be shy, we'll deal with you," he added to Rostov.
The game went on; the footman carried the champagne incessantly.
All the cards of Rostov were beaten, and up to eight hundred rubles were written on it. He wrote about eight hundred rubles over one card, but while champagne was being served to him, he changed his mind and wrote again the usual kush, twenty rubles.
Leave it, - said Dolokhov, although he did not seem to be looking at Rostov, - you will soon win back. I give to others, but I beat you. Are you afraid of me? he repeated.
Rostov obeyed, left the written eight hundred and placed the seven of worms with a torn off corner, which he picked up from the ground. He remembered her well afterwards. He placed the seven of hearts, writing over it in broken chalk eight hundred, in round, straight numbers; drank the served glass of warmed champagne, smiled at Dolokhov's words and, with bated breath, waiting for the seven, began to look at Dolokhov's hands holding the pack. Winning or losing this seven of hearts meant a lot to Rostov. On Sunday last week, Count Ilya Andreich gave his son two thousand rubles, and he, who never liked to talk about financial difficulties, told him that this money was the last until May, and that therefore he asked his son to be more economical this time. Nikolai said that this was too much for him, and that he gave his word of honor not to take more money until spring. Now, of this money, one thousand two hundred rubles remained. Therefore, the seven of hearts meant not only the loss of one thousand six hundred rubles, but also the need to change this word. With bated breath, he looked at Dolokhov’s hands and thought: “Well, hurry up, give me this card, and I’ll take my cap, go home to dinner with Denisov, Natasha and Sonya, and surely there will never be a card in my hands.” At that moment, his home life - jokes with Petya, conversations with Sonya, duets with Natasha, a picket with his father, and even a quiet bed in the Cook's House - presented itself to him with such force, clarity and charm, as if all this had been long gone, lost and invaluable happiness. He could not allow that a stupid accident, forcing the seven to lie first to the right than to the left, could deprive him of all this newly understood, newly illuminated happiness and plunge him into the abyss of an unexperienced and indefinite misfortune. It could not be, but he still waited with bated breath for the movement of Dolokhov's hands. These broad-boned, reddish hands, with hair visible from under their shirt, laid down a pack of cards and took up the glass and pipe being served.
So you're not afraid to play with me? repeated Dolokhov, and, as if to tell a merry story, he laid down his cards, leaned over on the back of his chair, and slowly began to tell with a smile:
Yes, gentlemen, I was told that there was a rumor in Moscow that I was a cheat, so I advise you to be more careful with me.
Well, swords! Rostov said.
Oh, Moscow aunts! - Dolokhov said and took up the cards with a smile.
Aaah! - Rostov almost shouted, raising both hands to his hair. The seven he needed was already at the top, the first card in the deck. He lost more than he could pay.
However, do not bury yourself, - said Dolokhov, glancing briefly at Rostov and continuing to throw.
Chapter XIV
After an hour and a half, most of the players were already jokingly looking at their own game.
The whole game focused on one Rostov. Instead of sixteen hundred rubles, he had a long column of numbers written down, which he counted up to ten thousand, but which now, as he vaguely assumed, had already risen to fifteen thousand. In fact, the record already exceeded twenty thousand rubles. Dolokhov no longer listened and did not tell stories; he followed every movement of Rostov's hands and glanced briefly at his note behind him from time to time. He decided to continue the game until this record increased to forty-three thousand. This number was chosen by him because forty-three was the sum of his years combined with Sonya's. Rostov, leaning his head on both hands, sat in front of a table covered with writing, drenched in wine, littered with cards. One painful impression did not leave him: those broad-boned, reddish hands with hair visible from under his shirt, these hands, which he loved and hated, held him in their power.
“Six hundred rubles, an ace, a corner, a nine ... it’s impossible to win back! .. And how fun it would be at home ... Jack on a ne ... it can’t be! .. And why is he doing this to me? ..” - Rostov thought and recalled . Sometimes he played a big card; but Dolokhov refused to beat her and appointed the jackpot himself. Nicholas obeyed him, and then he prayed to God, as he prayed on the battlefield on the Amsteten bridge; now he guessed that the card that first fell into his hand from a pile of curved cards under the table would save him; sometimes he calculated how many laces were on his jacket, and with the same number of points he tried to bet the card on the entire loss; then he looked around at other players for help; now he peered into Dolokhov's now cold face and tried to penetrate what was going on in it.
“After all, he knows,” he said to himself, “what this loss means to me. He can't want me to die, can he? After all, he was my friend. After all, I loved him ... But he is not to blame either; what should he do when he is lucky? It's not my fault, he said to himself. - I didn't do anything wrong. Have I killed someone, insulted, wished harm? Why such a terrible misfortune? And when did it start? Not so long ago, when I approached this table with the idea of winning a hundred rubles, buying my mother this box for the name day and going home, I was so happy, so free, cheerful! And I did not understand then how happy I was! When did this end and when did this new, terrible state begin? What marked this change? I was still sitting in this place, at this table, and in the same way I chose and put forward cards and looked at these broad-boned, dexterous hands. When did this happen and what happened? I am healthy, strong and all the same, and all in the same place. No, it can't be! It's true, it's not going to end."
He was red-faced and covered in sweat, despite the fact that the room was not hot. And his face was terrifying and pitiful, especially due to the impotent desire to appear calm.
The record reached the fateful number of forty-three thousand. Rostov prepared a card, which was supposed to go at an angle from three thousand rubles, which had just been given to him, when Dolokhov hit the deck, put it aside and, taking the chalk, began quickly with his clear, strong handwriting, breaking the chalk, to sum up Rostov's note.
Dinner time, dinner time! Out and gypsies! - Indeed, with their gypsy accent, some black men and women were already entering from the cold and saying something. Nikolai understood that everything was over; but he said in an indifferent voice:
What, you won't? And I have a nice card prepared. - As if he was most interested in the fun of the game itself.
"It's over, I'm gone! he thought. “Now a bullet in the forehead - one thing remains,” and at the same time he said in a cheerful voice:
Well, one more card.
Good, - answered Dolokhov, having finished the result, - good! twenty-one rubles is coming, ”he said, pointing to the number twenty-one, which equaled forty-three thousand, and, taking a pack, he prepared to throw. Rostov obediently turned back the corner and instead of the prepared six thousand, he diligently wrote twenty-one.
It's all the same to me, - he said, - I'm only interested to know whether you will kill or give me this ten.
Dolokhov seriously began to throw. Oh, how Rostov hated at that moment these hands, reddish, with short fingers and with hair visible from under his shirt, which had him in his power ... Ten was given.
Forty-three thousand are behind you, count, - said Dolokhov and, stretching, got up from the table. “You get tired, however, of sitting for so long,” he said.
Yes, and I'm tired too, - said Rostov.
Dolokhov, as if reminding him that it was indecent for him to joke, interrupted him:
When would you like me to receive the money, Count?
Rostov, flushing, called Dolokhov into another room.
I can't suddenly pay everything, you will take the bill, - he said.
Listen, Rostov, - said Dolokhov, smiling clearly and looking into Nikolai's eyes, - you know the saying: "Happy in love, unhappy in cards." Your cousin is in love with you. I know.
"ABOUT! it's terrible to feel so at the mercy of this man, ”thought Rostov. Rostov understood what a blow he would inflict on his father and mother by announcing this loss; he understood what happiness it would be to get rid of all this, and understood that Dolokhov knew that he could save him from this shame and grief, and now he still wanted to play with him, like a cat with a mouse.
Your cousin ... - Dolokhov wanted to say; but Nicholas interrupted him.
My cousin has nothing to do with it, and there is nothing to talk about her! he shouted furiously.
So when do you get it? Dolokhov asked.
Tomorrow, - said Rostov and left the room.
Chapter XV
It was not difficult to say “tomorrow” and maintain a tone of decency, but to come home alone, to see sisters, brother, mother, father, to confess and ask for money that you have no right to after a given word of honor, it was terrible.
Haven't slept at home yet. The youth of the Rostovs' house, having returned from the theatre, had supper, sat at the clavichord. As soon as Nikolai entered the hall, he was seized by that loving poetic atmosphere that reigned that winter in their house and which now, after Dolokhov's proposal and Yogel's ball, seemed to thicken even more, like the air before a thunderstorm, over Sonya and Natasha. Sonya and Natasha, in the blue dresses they wore at the theatre, pretty and knowing it, were happy and smiling at the clavichord. Vera and Shinshin were playing chess in the living room. The old countess, expecting her son and husband, was playing solitaire with an old noblewoman who lived in their house. Denisov, with shining eyes and tousled hair, sat with his leg thrown back at the clavichord and, clapping his short fingers on them, took chords and, rolling his eyes, sang with his small, hoarse, but true voice the poem he had composed "The Sorceress", to which he tried to find music.
Sorceress, tell me what power
Draws me to abandoned strings;
What kind of fire did you plant in your heart,
What delight spilled over the fingers! -
Wonderful! Great! Natasha screamed. “Another verse,” she said, not noticing Nikolai.
“They have everything the same,” thought Nikolai, looking into the living room, where he saw Vera and his mother with an old woman.
A! here's Nikolenka! Natasha ran up to him.
Daddy at home? - he asked.
I'm glad you came! - without answering, said Natasha. - We're having so much fun! Vassily Dmitritch stayed another day for me, you know?
No, dad hasn't come yet, - said Sonya.
Coco, you have arrived, come to me, my friend, - said the voice of the countess from the living room. Nikolai went up to his mother, kissed her hand, and, silently sitting down at her table, began to look at her hands, laying out the cards. Laughter and cheerful voices were heard from the hall, persuading Natasha.
Well, all right, all right, - Denisov shouted, - now there is nothing to excuse, barcarolla is behind you, I beg you.
The Countess looked back at her silent son.
What happened to you? - asked the mother of Nikolai.
Oh, nothing, - he said, as if he was already tired of this all the same question. - Is papa coming soon?
I think.
“They are all the same. They don't know anything! Where should I go? thought Nikolai and went back to the hall where the clavichords stood.
Sonya sat at the clavichord and played the prelude of that barcarolle that Denisov especially loved. Natasha was going to sing. Denisov looked at her with enthusiastic eyes.
Nikolai began to pace up and down the room.
“And here is the desire to make her sing! What can she sing? And there’s nothing funny here,” thought Nikolai.
Sonya took the first chord of the prelude.
“My God, I am dishonorable, I am a lost man. A bullet in the forehead is the only thing left, not to sing, he thought. - Leave? but where to? Anyway, let them sing!”
Nikolai gloomily, continuing to walk around the room, looked at Denisov and the girls, avoiding their eyes.
"Nikolenka, what's wrong with you?" asked Sonya's gaze fixed on him. She saw at once that something had happened to him.
Nicholas turned away from her. Natasha, with her sensitivity, also instantly noticed the state of her brother. She noticed him, but she herself was so cheerful at that moment, she was so far from grief, sadness, reproaches, that she (as often happens with young people) deliberately deceived herself. “No, I’m too happy now to spoil my fun with sympathy for someone else’s grief,” she felt and said to herself: “No, I’m really mistaken, he should be as cheerful as I am.”
Well, Sonya, - she said and went to the very middle of the hall, where, in her opinion, the resonance was best. Raising her head, dropping her lifeless hands, as dancers do, Natasha, stepping from heel to tiptoe with an energetic movement, walked in the middle of the room and stopped.
"Here I am!" - she seemed to be saying, answering the enthusiastic look of Denisov, who was watching her.
“And what makes her happy! thought Nicholas, looking at his sister. - And how she is not bored and not ashamed! Natasha took the first note, her throat widened, her chest straightened, her eyes took on a serious expression. She was not thinking of anyone or anything at that moment, and sounds poured out of the smile of her folded mouth, those sounds that anyone can produce at the same intervals and at the same intervals, but which leave you cold a thousand times, in make you shudder and cry for the thousand and first time.
Natasha this winter began to sing seriously for the first time, and especially because Denisov admired her singing. She sang now not like a child, there was no longer in her singing that comic, childish diligence that had been in her before; but she still did not sing well, as all the expert judges who listened to her said. “Not processed, but a beautiful voice, it needs to be processed,” everyone said. But they usually said this long after her voice had fallen silent. At the same time, when this unprocessed voice sounded with incorrect aspirations and with efforts of transitions, even expert judges did not say anything and only enjoyed this unprocessed voice, and only wished to hear it again. In her voice there was that virginity, untouchedness, that ignorance of one's own strengths and that still uncultivated velvety, which were so combined with the shortcomings of the art of singing that it seemed impossible to change anything in this voice without spoiling it.
“What is this? thought Nikolai, hearing her voice and opening his eyes wide. - What happened to her? How does she sing today? he thought. And suddenly the whole world concentrated for him in anticipation of the next note, the next phrase, and everything in the world became divided into three tempos: “Oh mio crudele affetto… One, two, three… one, two… three… times… Oh mio crudele affetto… One, two, three... one. Oh, our stupid life! thought Nikolai. - All this, and misfortune, and money, and Dolokhov, and anger and honor - all this is nonsense ... but here it is - the real one ... Well, Natasha, well, my dear! well, mother! .. How will she take this si ... Did she take it? God bless! - And he, without noticing that he was singing, in order to strengthen this si, took the second third of a high note. - My God! how good! Is this what I took? how happy!” he thought.
Oh, how this third trembled and how something better that was in Rostov's soul was touched. And this something was independent of everything in the world and above everything in the world. What losses here, and the Dolokhovs, and honestly! .. All nonsense! You can kill, steal and still be happy ...
Chapter XVI
For a long time Rostov had not experienced such pleasure from music as on that day. But as soon as Natasha finished her barcarolle, he again remembered reality. He left without saying anything and went downstairs to his room. A quarter of an hour later the old count, cheerful and contented, arrived from the club. Nikolai, hearing his arrival, went to him.
Well, did you have fun? said Ilya Andreevich, smiling joyfully and proudly at his son. Nikolai wanted to say yes, but he could not: he almost sobbed. The count lit his pipe and did not notice the state of his son.
"Oh, inevitably!" thought Nikolai for the first time and last time. And suddenly, in the most careless tone, such that he seemed disgusting to himself, as if he was asking the carriage to go to the city, he said to his father:
Dad, I came to you for business. I had and forgot. I need money.
That’s how it is,” said the father, who was in a particularly cheerful spirit. - I told you that you won't. Is it a lot?
A lot, - blushing and with a stupid, careless smile, which for a long time later he could not forgive himself, said Nikolai. - I lost a little, that is, a lot, then a lot, forty-three thousand.
What? Who?.. You're kidding! shouted the Count, suddenly blushing apoplectically on the neck and the back of his head, as old people blush.
I promised to pay tomorrow, - Nikolai said.
Well! .. - said the old count, spreading his arms, and sank helplessly on the sofa.
What to do! Who hasn’t this happened to, ”said the son in a cheeky, bold tone, while in his soul he considered himself a scoundrel, a scoundrel who whole life could not atone for his crime. He would like to kiss his father's hands, on his knees to ask for his forgiveness, and he casually and even rudely said that this happens to everyone.
Count Ilya Andreich lowered his eyes on hearing these words of his son, and hurried, looking for something.
Yes, yes, - he said, - it's hard, I'm afraid, it's hard to get ... with anyone! yes, with whom it has not happened ... - And the count glanced at his son's face and went out of the room ... Nikolai was preparing to fight back, but did not expect this.
Daddy! pa ... hemp! - he shouted after him, sobbing, - forgive me! And, seizing his father's hand, he pressed his lips to it and wept.
While the father was explaining himself to his son, an equally important explanation was taking place between the mother and her daughter. Natasha, excited, ran to her mother.
Mom! .. Mom! .. he made me ...
What did you do?
Made, made an offer. Mother! Mother! she screamed.
The Countess could not believe her ears. Denisov made an offer. To whom? This tiny girl Natasha, who until recently played with dolls and now still took lessons.
Natasha, full of nonsense! she said, still hoping it was a joke.
Well, nonsense! I’m talking to you,” Natasha said angrily. - I came to ask what to do, and you say: "nonsense" ...
The countess shrugged.
If it is true that Monsieur Denisov proposed to you, although it is ridiculous, then tell him that he is a fool, that's all.
No, he is not a fool, - Natasha said offendedly and seriously.
Well, so what do you want? You are all in love these days. Well, if you are in love, then marry me,” said the countess, laughing angrily, “with God!
No, mother, I'm not in love with him, I must not be in love with him.
Well, just tell him.
Mom, are you angry? Don't be angry, my dear, what am I to blame for?
No, what is it, my friend? If you want, I'll go and tell him, - said the countess, smiling.
No, I myself, only you will teach. Everything is easy for you,” she added, answering her smile. - And if you saw how he said it to me! After all, I know what he did not want to say; Yes, I accidentally said.
Well, you still have to refuse.
No, don't. I feel so sorry for him! He is so cute.
Well, take the offer. And then, it’s time to get married, ”the mother said angrily and mockingly.
No, Mom, I feel so sorry for him. I don't know how I will say.
Yes, you don’t have anything to say, I’ll say it myself, ”said the countess, indignant at the fact that they dared to look at her little Natasha as if they were big.
No, no way, I'm on my own, and you go listen at the door, - and Natasha ran through the living room into the hall, where Denisov was sitting on the same chair, at the clavichord, covering his face with his hands. He jumped up at the sound of her light footsteps.
Natalie, - he said, approaching her with quick steps, - decide my fate. She is in your hands!
Vasily Dmitritch, I feel so sorry for you!... No, but you are so nice... but don't... it's... but I will always love you like that.
Denisov bent over her hand, and she heard strange, incomprehensible sounds. She kissed him on the black matted curly head. At that moment, the hasty noise of the countess's dress was heard. She approached them.
Vasily Dmitritch, I thank you for the honour,” said the countess in an embarrassed voice, but which seemed strict to Denisov, “but my daughter is so young, and I thought that you, as a friend of my son, would first turn to me. In that case, you would not put me in the need for a refusal.
Gafinya ... - Denisov said with lowered eyes and a guilty look, he wanted to say something else and stumbled.
Natasha could not calmly see him so miserable. She began to sob loudly.
G'affinya, I am guilty before you, - Denisov continued in a broken voice, - but know that I idolize your daughter and your whole family so much that I will give two lives ... - He looked at the countess and, noticing her stern face ... - Well, goodbye , g'affinya, - he said, kissing her hand, and without looking at Natasha, he left the room with quick, decisive steps.
The next day Rostov saw Denisov off; who did not want to stay in Moscow for another day. Denisov was seen off at the gypsies by all his Moscow friends, and he did not remember how he was put into the sledge and how the first three stations were taken.
After Denisov's departure, Rostov, waiting for the money that the old count could not suddenly collect, spent another two weeks in Moscow, without leaving home, and mainly in the young ladies' room.
Sonya was more devoted and tender to him than before. She seemed to want to show him that his loss was a feat for which she now loves him all the more; but Nicholas now considered himself unworthy of her.
He filled the girls' albums with poems and notes and, without saying goodbye to any of his acquaintances, finally sending all forty-three thousand and receiving Dolokhov's receipt, left at the end of November to catch up with the regiment, which was already in Poland.
The end of the 1st part of the 2nd volume.
Anyone who is going to write about Tolstoy is, as it were, warned by the author himself and at the same time directed. How can one say in "words" about "War and Peace"? And this is exactly what criticism has to do—it has to convey meaning. literary work"in other words". ButMeaning in a novel is born from the concatenation of images, episodes, pictures, motifs, and details. This is the "labyrinth of links" in which, as Tolstoy says, lies the essence of art;the task of criticism is to “lead the reader” in this labyrinth, to find a guiding thread that would lead through the world of the novel, open this world to us. But first you need to enter it.
We open "War and Peace" and look at the familiar text. Perhaps, bypassing the preliminary "general words", try to enter directly through the text into the world of links in Tolstoy's novel? Perhaps this or that page, this or that episode, will lead us more truly and directly into the book, into its inner connection, than preliminary general discussions?
Here on the page we have opened is one of the “peaceful”, “family” pictures, so memorable to everyone who knows “War and Peace”. Nikolai Rostov returns home after a big loss to Dolokhov. He promised to pay...
tomorrow, gave his word of honor and is horrified by the impossibility of keeping it.
It is strange for Nikolai in his condition to see the usual peaceful comfort: “They have everything the same. They don't know anything! Where should I go? Natasha is going to sing, this is incomprehensible and irritates him: what can she be happy about, a bullet in the forehead, and not sing. It was as if not two hours, but a whole eternity had passed since Nikolai, Natasha and all his friends were together in the theater, before he went to Dolokhov. Then he was, as usual, in his own atmosphere, among close people, now he is separated from them by the misfortune that happened to him, and through this misfortune he perceives the familiar environment. As at every step with Tolstoy, we are struck in this scene by the authenticity with which the psychological state is conveyed, familiar to any of us: when a strong experience, great joy or great misfortune, creates a distance between us and the surrounding things and makes them see in a new way. .
But psychological fidelity is not an end in itself for an artist. These pages are not written for her alone; striking us and capturing our attention, she leads us, together with Nikolai Rostov, to the discovery. Nikolai hears his sister's voice, and suddenly something unexpected happens to him: “Suddenly the whole world concentrated for him in anticipation of the next note, the next phrase, and everything in the world became divided into three tempos ... Oh, our stupid life! Nikolay thought. - All this, and misfortune, and money, and Dolokhov, and anger, and honor - all this is nonsense ... but here it is - the real one ... "
The demands of honor are everything for Rostov, they generally determine his whole life, but at that moment, hearing Natasha, he keenly feels their conditionality, they seem to be nonsense: a third trembled, and something better was touched in Rostov's soul. “And this something was independent of everything in the world and above everything in the world. What losses here, and the Dolokhovs, and honestly! .. All nonsense! You can kill, steal and still be happy ... "
Nikolai, who had just been the most unfortunate person, is experiencing a minute of the most complete happiness. “For a long time Rostov has not experienced such pleasure from music as on this day” - and this despite the depressed state; but is it true that "despite"? Is it not precisely because the balance has been lost, the habitual system of attitude to life, its usual norm, has been shaken? Tolstoy in "War and Peace", as a rule, presents events and pictures in the perception of one of the characters, using his "subjective prism". So it is here: we "hear" Natasha's singing together with Nikolai Rostov. And is it not because, in such persuasiveness and strength, we are presented with the significance and importance of present- the power of music, the charm of a young voice, in which "ignorance of one's strengths" and "velvety that has not yet been processed" - that these impressions are refracted in the shocked mind of Nikolai? For him, in the catastrophic vision that visited him at that moment, the values of life stood in a different ratio than always. Nikolay has musicality and poetry, and these "Rostov" qualities usually combine well in him, coexist peacefully with an unconditional adherence to "noble honor" and all the rules of conduct adopted in his social circle. He is a tightly regulated person, and his musicality does not in the least undermine the foundations on which his life rests. “He understands and feels everything little by little,” says Nikolai in the initial sketches of the characteristics of the characters under the heading “Poetic[ical]”.
But now he doesn't feel "a little". The experience of music at this moment is not a pleasant pleasure, but an ecstasy in which delight and despair are mixed. Rostov is music in its power, which Tolstoy himself knew and felt, like a few. Music gives pleasure, but in return it wants something from a person, demands a life decision, developing energy in him beyond the usual for this.
By his misfortune, Nikolai is disinhibited for perceptionthismusic. Patriarchal harmony is broken in him,he is at odds with the usual Rostovwith what for him is the meaning of life. The importance and obligatory nature of caste regulations suddenly disappears in a stream of desperately happy surging and lifting him above himself: “Oh, our stupid life!” What was always unconditional is felt relative and insignificant, but the present unconditional falls away from various imaginaries.The present opens through discord, through crisis.
This moment of acute and bright joy is very dramatic for Nikolai: it is against the background of the shock that turned him over, she came out of this shock, she would not have been without him.
“All this is nonsense ... but here it is real ...” Memory puts next to another episode, other pages of the book are the reflections of Pierre Bezukhov when he is heading towards the Borodino field with the intention of participating in the battle. At the same time, Pierre experiences “a pleasant feeling of consciousness that everything that makes up the happiness of people, the conveniences of life, wealth, even life itself, is nonsense, which is pleasant to discard in comparison with something ... With which, Pierre could not imagine to give an account, and did not try to clarify to himself ... ".
Is it an accident that the similarity of expressions in which Nikolai and Pierre clarify their state to themselves? The situations in which one and the other find themselves seem to be incommensurable in significance: a domestic episode and the moment of decisive tension of the forces of the entire people in the formidable 1812.
But in reality this incommensurability does not exist for Tolstoy. For him, the objects and episodes in the novel are not distributed according to the degree of significance, depending on whether they depict domestic life or a historical event. In War and Peace, Tolstoy just debunked history, separated from the simple life of people, and the whole artificial hierarchy of historical and private life as phenomena of a higher and lower rank. In Tolstoy, who refutes the habit of evaluating things by rank, instilled in people by official society, family and historical scenes are fundamentally commensurable and equally significant in their significance, and this division itself is still very external, although it suggests itself.
Life meanwhile, the real life of people with their essential interests of health, illness, work, recreation, with their own interests of thought, science, poetry, music, love, friendship, hatred, passions, went on, as always, independently and without political closeness or enmity with Napoleon Bonaparte, and beyond all possible transformations.
There is, according to Tolstoy, a single life of people, its simple and general content, its root situation, which can be revealed as deeply in an everyday and family event as in an event called historical.The episodes of "War and Peace" are interconnected primarily not by the unity of action, in which the same characters participate, as in an ordinary novel; these connections are of a secondary nature and are themselves determined by another, more hidden, internal connection. From the point of view of the poetics of the novel, the action in War and Peace is very unfocused and uncollected. It diverges in different directions, develops parallel lines; the internal connection, which constitutes the "basis of cohesion," lies in the situation, the main situations human life, which Tolstoy reveals in its most diverse manifestations and events.
This deep situation emerges both in Nikolai's state, when he hears his sister's voice in shock, and in Pierre's state on the eve of Borodin. Therefore, the similarity of the expressions themselves in their inner speech is not at all an accidental coincidence.
From the very beginning of the war of 1812, Pierre is full of foreboding of an impending formidable and at the same time saving catastrophe. He impatiently looks for its signs and with all the strength of his soul calls on this terrible thundercloud, which should “ripen, break out and lead him out of that enchanted, insignificant world of Moscow habits in which he felt captivated, and lead him to a great feat and great happiness. ". Pierre, dragging out the life of a “retired, good-natured chamberlain living out his life in Moscow”, involved in it at a moment of spiritual impasse “by the force of the situation, society, breed,” Pierre is thirsty catastrophes as the changes of this whole life in which he came to a hopeless loss. The impending terrible event must cut the vital knot in which his personal existence is entangled. Horror and the expectation of happiness combine for Pierre in anticipation of liberation: it should not come, but break out.
Freedom combined with a catastrophe, a great crisis—such is the situation of War and Peace. And in order to express this situation, Tolstoy needed the year 1812. But it was not purely historical interest that led the writer to an event half a century ago: Tolstoy needed to understand and express his modernity, his own the highest degree catastrophic and crisis era, which opened 60s when the novel was written.
