1.2.2. How and why does the tone of Lermontov’s “Duma” change from beginning to end?
Read the fragment of the work below and complete tasks 1.1.1-1.1.2.
| VI To my village at the same time The new landowner galloped up And equally strict analysis In the neighborhood the occasion was given by: Named Vladimir Lenskoy, With a soul straight from Göttingen, Handsome man, in full bloom, Kant's admirer and poet. He's from foggy Germany He brought the fruits of learning: Freedom-loving dreams The spirit is ardent and rather strange, Always an enthusiastic speech And shoulder-length black curls. VII From the cold depravity of the world Before you even have time to fade, His soul was warmed Greetings from a friend, caress from the maidens; He was a dear ignoramus at heart, He was cherished by hope, And the world has a new shine and noise Still captivated the young mind. He amused me with a sweet dream Doubts of your heart; The purpose of our life is for him Was a tempting mystery He puzzled over her And he suspected miracles. VIII He believed that his soul was dear Must connect with him That, despairingly languishing, She waits for him every day; He believed that his friends were ready For his honor to accept the shackles And that their hand will not tremble Break the slanderer's vessel; That there are those chosen by fate, People's sacred friends; That their immortal family Irresistible rays Someday it will dawn on us And the world will be blessed. IX Indignation, regret, For good, pure love And glory is sweet torment His blood was stirred early. He traveled the world with a lyre; Under the sky of Schiller and Goethe Their poetic fire The soul ignited in him; And muses of sublime art, Lucky, he was not ashamed: He proudly preserved in his songs Always high feelings Gusts of a virgin dream And the beauty of important simplicity. X He sang love, obedient to love, And his song was clear, Like the thoughts of a simple-minded maiden, Like a baby's dream, like the moon In the deserts of the serene sky, Goddess of secrets and tender sighs. He sang separation and sadness, And something, and the foggy distance, And romantic roses; He sang those distant countries Where long in the bosom of silence His living tears flowed; He sang the faded color of life Almost eighteen years old. |
A. S. Pushkin “Eugene Onegin”
Read the work below and complete tasks 1.2.1-1.2.2.
| Thought I look sadly at our generation! His future is either empty or dark, Meanwhile, under the burden of knowledge and doubt, It will grow old in inactivity. We are rich, barely out of the cradle, By the mistakes of our fathers and their late minds, And life already torments us, like a smooth path without a goal, Like a feast at someone else's holiday. Shamefully indifferent to good and evil, At the beginning of the race we wither without a fight; In the face of danger they are shamefully cowardly And before the authorities - despicable slaves. So skinny fruit, ripe before its time, It pleases neither our taste nor our eyes, Hanging between the flowers, an orphaned alien, And the hour of their beauty is the hour of his fall! We have dried up the mind with fruitless science, I feel envious from my neighbors and friends Passions ridiculed by disbelief. We barely touched the cup of pleasure, But we did not save our youthful strength; From every joy, fearing satiety, We have extracted the best juice forever. Dreams of poetry, creation of art Our minds are not moved by sweet delight; We greedily cherish the remaining feelings in our chests Buried by stinginess and useless treasure. And we hate and we love by chance, Without sacrificing anything, neither anger nor love, And some secret cold reigns in the soul, When fire boils in the blood. And the luxurious amusements of our ancestors are boring to us, Their conscientious, childish depravity; And we rush to the grave without happiness and without glory, Looking back mockingly. Crowd gloomy and soon forgotten We will pass over the world without noise or trace, Without giving up the centuries a single fertile thought, Not the genius of the work begun. And our ashes, with the severity of a judge and a citizen, A descendant will insult with a contemptuous verse, The bitter mockery of a deceived son Over the wasted father. |
M. Yu. Lermontov
1.1.1. What epithets are most important in characterizing Lensky and why?
1.2.1. Why does the lyrical hero condemn the generation of his time?
Clarification.
1.1.1. Epi-those serve for the creation of a hu-do-same image. In Len-sko-go’s ha-rak-te-ri-sti-ke, epi-te-you play an important role. Pushkin informs us about the main quality of his hero: Lensky is a novelist poet, studied in Germany, -This is why he “has a soul straight from Gettin-gen.” Roman-ti-kam is characterized by “free-loving dreams”, “the spirit is ardent and quite strange”, “always delighted -speech”, “sweet dreams”.
1.2.1. The new generation moved away from participation in public life and went deeper into employment in the “barren land”, its do not worry about questions of good and evil; it manifests “disdainful little spirit in the face of danger”, it manifests “disdainful servants in front of power." These people are not told anything, neither language nor art. Their fate is without joy:
Crowd-sing-my-eel-and-soon-for-that
We will pass over the world without noise or trace,
Without leaving a thought for centuries,
I don’t do any kind of work.
Such a stern assessment of Ler-mon's contemporaries' pro-dik-to-va-on of his public views re-re-do-th poet. Equal spirit to social life is the spiritual death of a person. Su-ro-vo-tsaying for this equal-spirit, for moving away from the social struggle of one’s own Well, Lermontov seems to be calling him to moral renewal, to awakening from spiritual hibernation.
Clarification.
1.1.2. The author pro-ti-vo-put-la-et re-a-li-stu One-gi-nu ro-man-ti-ka Len-sko-go. Lensky is close to the West with his unique breath, Pushkin loves his own youth in him , loves that soulful state of the lofty sword-ta-tel-no-sti, which has been with-the-years without-return-but leaves One-on-one, the author of Kri-ti-che-ski from-no-sit-sya to Len-sky as a poet-ro-man-ti-ku and judges him for his lack of co-s-ness. restraint and sweetness:
He sang love, obedient to love,
And his song was clear,
Like the thoughts of a maiden, simply soulful,
Like a baby's dream, like the moon
In the deserts of the sky without me...
Many contemporary Push-ki-na na-ho-di-li in Lensky are similar to the author of “Ev-ge-niya One-gina”. Ler-montov, for example, in the poem “The Death of a Poet” directly compared Push-kin with Lensky:
Like that poet, ignorant, but sweet,
How deaf the roar would be,
Sung by him with such miraculous power,
Slain, like him, with a merciless hand.
1.2.2. Sti-ho-tvo-re-nie from-no-sit-xia to the fi-lo-sof-skaya li-ri-ke Ler-mon-to-va. In it, the poet, at a global scale, thinks about the fate of the 1930s, studies his social -spiritual and spiritual ways. Condemning the modern culture, the poet does not teach, but co-suffers, without separating himself from the culture . Mu-chi-tel-noe, with sharp-ki-mi per-re-pa-da-mi on the construction of the li-ri-che-che-hero per-re-da-yut different -nye artistic techniques: re-pa-dy of rhythm, re-re-no-sy of verse, abundance of in-versions, repetitions, separate members of the board. The knowledge of a hero is not born of action, but of opinion:
Meanwhile, under the burden of knowing and with me
In inaction it grows old.
The ring-shaped composition of the poem contributes to the gradual revelation of the poet’s main thought: the pro-lightness of the future of the poet's time. The trouble is: lack of social, civil goals. Even science is fruitless, unable to overcome the ru-ti-nu of life, you know from the crisis. The speech from these thoughts grows towards the end of the poem, which is why the last lines already sound like an alarm bell: for-du -may-be, for the sake of the future, we must live differently!
I continue to comment on "Eugene Onegin"
WHERE I AM: The ninth stanza of the second chapter. Continuation of the description of Lensky
TEXT:
Indignation, regret,
For good, pure love
And glory is sweet torment
His blood was stirred early.
He traveled the world with a lyre;
Under the sky of Schiller and Goethe
Their poetic fire
The soul ignited within him.
And muses of sublime art,
Lucky, he was not ashamed;
He proudly preserved in his songs
Always high feelings
Gusts of a virgin dream
And the beauty of important simplicity.
All the heroes of EO are emphatically “literary”.
Onegin - "Muscovite in Harold's cloak"
Tatiana - “fell in love with the deceptions of both Richardson and Rousseau”,
Lensky - “Under the sky of Schiller and Goethe, the soul ignited in him.”
(Even Zaretsky is the one who plants cabbage “like Horace”).
Nabokov at times goes so far as to consider the heroes of EO merely as characters of Western European literature, artificially transplanted by Pushkin onto Russian soil, while Lotman - as people of that era inclined to read, who fell under the spell of this literature (its various directions).
It seems that Lotman’s approach more accurately reflects the essence of the heroes of EO, as they came from Pushkin’s pen. Look - in all cases, the poet not only refers the reader to the “origins” of his heroes (“Like Childe Harold,” “imagining a heroine ... Clarice, Julia, Delphine,” “their poetic fire ignited the soul in him”), but also specifically talks about their acquaintance with the primary sources (“He excluded the singer Gyaour and Juan from disgrace,” “novels, they replaced everything for her,” “under the sky of Schiller and Goethe”).
About each hero, Pushkin tells a completely plausible story about how he came to such a life that he became a character in Western European literature. Here is Lensky: before us is a story about how an impressionable young man, scribbling amateur poems to his beloved girl, having arrived in Germany, under the influence of its “air”, its poets and his studies, imagined himself called to poetic creativity. Why couldn't this happen? Why is he a character who was “taken and transplanted”
Yes, in the description of Onegin, Lensky, Tatyana, there is exaggeration, sometimes even grotesquery - but is it possible to complain only on the basis of this that they are “not our” characters? Moreover, the heroes are revealed to us by the poet in an extremely simple-minded manner, with references and explanations (didn’t Gogol take his way of presenting his heroes from Pushkin?)
1. Chapter two– written immediately after finishing the first one. By November 3, 1823, the first 17 stanzas were written. Consisting of 39 stanzas, the chapter was completed on December 8, 1823, and in 1824 Pushkin revised and supplemented it with new stanzas.Finishing the second chapter, Pushkin told his friends about his new work. He wrote to Vyazemsky: “Now I’m not writing a novel, but a novel in verse - a devilish difference. Like “Don Juan” - there’s nothing to think about printing, I’m writing carelessly” (November 4, 1823). Delvig: “I’m now writing a new poem, in which I’m babbling to the extreme. Birukov (censor) will not see it” (November 16). To A.I. Turgenev: “In my spare time I write a new poem, Eugene Onegin,” in which I choke on bile. Two songs are already ready” (December 1). Apparently, the picture of a serf village drawn in the second chapter seemed so harsh to Pushkin that he had no hope that the censor would allow this chapter to be published.
Pushkin wrote about the same thing at the end of the chapter: “There is nothing to think about my poem: if it is ever published, it will probably not be in Moscow or St. Petersburg” (to A. Bestuzhev, February 8, 1824). However, later, having revised the text of the chapter and made some abbreviations and censorship changes in it, Pushkin sent the chapter to print, and in this form it did not encounter any great difficulties in censorship.
The chapter was published as a separate book in 1826 (published in October) with the indication: “Written in 1823” - and republished in May 1830 ()
36. That’s right, an old disabled person...– disabled in language early XIX V. equal in content to the modern “veteran”. ()
37. Stanzas XX–XXII – stanzas are written in the vein of romantic elegiac poetry and represent a retelling of everyday situations (Lensky’s childhood, his departure, the friendship of his fathers and neighbors, etc.) in the language of cliches of Russian romantic-idyllic poetry of the 1810s – 1820s . In the middle of the XXII stanza, images such as “golden games”, “dense groves”, “solitude”, “silence”, which from constant repetitions turned into cliché signals of the elegiac-idyllic style, are replaced by personifications (graphically expressed in capital letters): “Night”, “Stars”, “Moon”. A commentary on these stanzas can be an excerpt from Kuchelbecker’s article. Compare: “And something, and a foggy distance” (2, X, 8). (
Hello dears.
Let's continue the conversation with you about the 2nd part of the wonderful work of AS Pushkin. The previous post can be seen here:
There won't be much explanation today. Just enjoy the text.
So, let's begin:-)
To my village at the same time
The new landowner galloped up
And equally strict analysis
In the neighborhood the occasion was given by:
Named Vladimir Lenskoy,
With a soul straight from Göttingen,
Handsome man, in full bloom,
Kant's admirer and poet.
He's from foggy Germany
He brought the fruits of learning:
Freedom-loving dreams
The spirit is ardent and rather strange,
Always an enthusiastic speech
And shoulder-length black curls.
Alma mater of Lensky
As they say - here is the appearance of a new hero. Landowner, handsome man with long hair, poet and good education. He studied in Germany at the famous University of Göttingen in Lower Saxony, which still operates to this day. For example, the Great Heine studied there, which is why Lensky’s Germanophilism is not surprising.
From the cold depravity of the world
Before you even have time to fade,
His soul was warmed
Greetings from a friend, caress from the maidens;
He was a dear ignoramus at heart,
He was cherished by hope,
And the world has a new shine and noise
Still captivated the young mind.
He amused me with a sweet dream
Doubts of your heart;
The purpose of our life is for him
Was a tempting mystery
He puzzled over her
And he suspected miracles.
He believed that his soul was dear
Must connect with him
That, despairingly languishing,
She waits for him every day;
He believed that his friends were ready
For his honor to accept the shackles
And that their hand will not tremble
Break the slanderer's vessel;
That there are those chosen by fate,
People's sacred friends;
That their immortal family
Irresistible rays
Someday it will dawn on us
And the world will be blessed.
Romantic and idealist. I would especially like to draw your attention to the brilliant turnover " my dear was ignorant at heart"I think it's brilliant.
Indignation, regret,
For good, pure love
And glory is sweet torment
His blood was stirred early.
He traveled the world with a lyre;
Under the sky of Schiller and Goethe
Their poetic fire
The soul ignited in him;
And muses of sublime art,
Lucky, he was not ashamed:
He proudly preserved in his songs
Always high feelings
Gusts of a virgin dream
And the beauty of important simplicity.
He sang love, obedient to love,
And his song was clear,
Like the thoughts of a simple-minded maiden,
Like a baby's dream, like the moon
In the deserts of the serene sky,
Goddess of secrets and tender sighs.
He sang separation and sadness,
And something, and the foggy distance,
And romantic roses;
He sang those distant countries
Where long in the bosom of silence
His living tears flowed;
He sang the faded color of life
Almost eighteen years old.
This is not a weak characteristic, and very flattering. Apparently, Lensky was very promising. And very young. 18 years.
In the desert, where Eugene is alone
I could appreciate his gifts,
Lords of neighboring villages
He didn't like feasts;
He ran away from their noisy conversation.
Their conversation is sensible
About haymaking, about wine,
About the kennel, about my relatives,
Of course, he didn’t shine with any feeling,
Not with poetic fire,
Neither sharpness nor intelligence,
No hostel art;
But the conversation of their lovely wives
He was much less intelligent.
Rich, good-looking, Lensky
Everywhere he was accepted as a groom;
This is the village custom;
All daughters were destined for their own
For the half-Russian neighbor;
Will he come up, immediately the conversation
Turns the word around
About the boredom of single life;
They call the neighbor to the samovar,
And Dunya is pouring tea;
They whisper to her: “Dunya, take note!”
Then they bring the guitar:
And she squeaks (my God!):
Come to my golden palace!... 
Young, interesting, not poor - of course an eligible bachelor. But was he interested in these provincial ambitions and local beauties? Despite his young age - not at all. The lady squeaks, by the way, the aria of the mermaid Lesta from the Russian adaptation of Cauer's opera "The Danube Fairy", which was called "The Dnieper Mermaid" and which was considered very vulgar.
But Lensky, without having, of course,
There is no desire to marry,
With Onegin I wished cordially
Let's make the acquaintance shorter.
They got along. Wave and stone
Poetry and prose, ice and fire
Not so different from each other.
First by mutual difference
They were boring to each other;
Then I liked it; Then
We came together every day on horseback
And soon they became inseparable.
So people (I am the first to repent)
There's nothing to do, friends.
But there is no friendship between us either.
Having destroyed all prejudices,
We respect everyone as zeros,
And in units - yourself.
We all look at Napoleons;
There are millions of two-legged creatures
For us there is one weapon;
We feel wild and funny.
Evgeniy was more tolerable than many;
Although he knew people, of course
And in general he despised them, -
But (there are no rules without exceptions)
He distinguished others very much
And I respected someone else’s feelings.
Well, two heroes came together... so different in temperament and age.
To be continued...
Have a nice time of day.
Indignation, regret,
For good, pure love
And glory is sweet torment
His blood was stirred early.
He traveled the world with a lyre;
Under the sky of Schiller and Goethe
Their poetic fire
The soul ignited within him.
And muses of sublime art,
Lucky, he was not ashamed;
He proudly preserved in his songs
Always high feelings
Gusts of a virgin dream
And the beauty of important simplicity.
All the heroes of EO are emphatically “literary”.
Onegin - "Muscovite in Harold's cloak"
Tatiana - “fell in love with the deceptions of both Richardson and Rousseau”,
Lensky - “Under the sky of Schiller and Goethe, the soul ignited in him.”
(Even Zaretsky is the one who plants cabbage “like Horace”).
Nabokov at times goes so far as to consider the heroes of EO merely as characters of Western European literature, artificially transplanted by Pushkin onto Russian soil, while Lotman - as people of that era inclined to read, who fell under the spell of this literature (its various directions).
It seems that Lotman’s approach more accurately reflects the essence of the heroes of EO, as they came from Pushkin’s pen. Look - in all cases, the poet not only refers the reader to the “origins” of his heroes (“Like Childe Harold,” “imagining a heroine ... Clarice, Julia, Delphine,” “their poetic fire ignited the soul in him”), but also specifically talks about their acquaintance with the primary sources (“He excluded the singer Gyaour and Juan from disgrace,” “novels, they replaced everything for her,” “under the sky of Schiller and Goethe”).
About each hero, Pushkin tells a completely plausible story about how he came to such a life that he became a character in Western European literature. Here is Lensky: before us is a story about how an impressionable young man, scribbling amateur poems to his beloved girl, having arrived in Germany, under the influence of its “air”, its poets and his studies, imagined himself called to poetic creativity. Why couldn't this happen? Why is he a character who was “taken and transplanted”
Yes, in the description of Onegin, Lensky, Tatyana, there is exaggeration, sometimes even grotesquery - but is it possible to complain only on the basis of this that they are “not our” characters? Moreover, the heroes are revealed to us by the poet in an extremely simple-minded manner, with references and explanations (by the way, wasn’t it from Pushkin that Gogol took his way of presenting his heroes?)