At literature lessons in high school, teachers must read the verse “The Death of a Poet” by Lermontov Mikhail Yuryevich to children. This is one of the most famous works of the poet. He is usually always asked to learn completely by heart. On our website, you can read the verse online or download it for free on a laptop or other gadget.
The text of Lermontov's poem "The Death of a Poet" was written in 1837. It is dedicated to A. Pushkin. Everyone knows that Mikhail Yuryevich at one time was one of those people who really liked the work of Alexander Sergeevich. He read many of his works and admired them. The sudden death of the poet greatly shocked Lermontov, so all his thoughts and feelings about this, in the end, “poured out” on paper. He wrote a powerful poem in which he denounced not only the direct killer of Pushkin, but also the indirect ones. Those who contributed to the escalation of the conflict between two people.
The work begins with a small epigraph in which Lermontov addresses the tsar. He asks him to punish the perpetrators of Pushkin's death. Then comes the poem itself. It consists of 2 different parts. In the first, he writes about the reasons why the poet died. In his opinion, the real culprit in the death of Alexander Sergeevich is not Dantes, but secular society. It constantly ridiculed the poet during his lifetime, and after his death, it began to pretend to grieve about him. In the first part, we meet the line that the sentence of fate has come true. Lermontov writes so for a reason. Thus, he refers us to the biography of Pushkin, from which we learn that death in a duel was predicted for him in childhood. The second part is different from the first. In it, he addresses directly to secular society. He writes that sooner or later they will have to answer for the death of the poet. It is unlikely that this will happen on earth, since the money of their ancestors saves them from punishment. But in heaven they will not save them. It is there that the real judgment will come upon them.
Revenge, my lord, revenge!
I will fall at your feet:
Be fair and punish the killer
So that his execution in later centuries
Your right judgment proclaimed to posterity,
To see the villains in her example.
The poet died! - slave of honor -
Pal, slandered by rumor,
With lead in my chest and a thirst for revenge,
Hanging your proud head!
The soul of the poet could not bear
The shame of petty insults,
He rebelled against the opinions of the world
Alone, as before ... and killed!
Killed! .. Why sob now,
Empty praise unnecessary choir
And the pathetic babble of excuses?
Fate's verdict has come true!
Didn't you at first so viciously persecuted
His free, bold gift
And for fun inflated
Slightly hidden fire?
Well? have fun ... He is tormented
I couldn't take the last one.
Faded like a beacon, wondrous genius,
Withered solemn wreath.
His killer in cold blood
He struck a blow ... there is no salvation:
Empty heart beats evenly
The pistol did not waver in his hand.
And what a marvel? ... from afar,
Like hundreds of fugitives
To catch happiness and ranks
Abandoned to us by the will of fate;
Laughing, he defiantly despised
Land foreign language and customs;
He could not spare our glory;
I could not understand at this bloody moment,
What did he raise his hand to?
And he is killed - and taken by the grave,
Like that singer, unknown, but sweet,
The prey of jealousy is deaf,
Sung by him with such wondrous power,
Struck, like him, by a ruthless hand.
Why from peaceful bliss and simple-hearted friendship
He entered this light envious and stifling
For a free heart and fiery passions?
Why did he give his hand to the insignificant slanderers,
Why did he believe the words and caresses false,
He, who from a young age comprehended people? ..
And removing the former wreath - they are the crown of thorns,
Wreathed in laurels, they put on him:
But secret needles are harsh
They wounded a glorious brow;
Poisoned his last moments
Insidious whisper of mocking ignoramuses,
And he died - with a vain thirst for revenge,
With the annoyance of the secret of deceived hopes.
The sounds of wonderful songs were silenced,
Do not give them away again:
The singer's shelter is gloomy and cramped,
And on the lips of his seal.
_____________________
And you, arrogant descendants
By the well-known meanness of the illustrious fathers,
Fifth slave corrected the wreckage
The game of happiness offended childbirth!
You, a greedy crowd standing at the throne,
Freedom, Genius and Glory executioners!
You hide under the shadow of the law,
Before you is the court and the truth - everything is silent! ..
But there is also God's judgment, the confidants of debauchery!
There is a formidable judgment: it waits;
He is not available to the sound of gold,
He knows both thoughts and deeds in advance.
Then in vain will you resort to slander:
It won't help you again
And you won't wash away with all your black blood
Poet's righteous blood!
Poets death
The poet is dead! - slave of honor -
Pal, slandered by rumor,
With lead in my chest and a thirst for revenge,
Hanging your proud head!
The soul of the poet could not bear
The shame of petty insults,
He rebelled against the opinions of the world
One as before ... and killed!
Killed! .. why sob now,
Empty praise unnecessary choir,
And the pathetic babble of excuses?
Fate's verdict has come true!
Didn't you at first so viciously persecuted
His free, bold gift
And for fun inflated
Slightly hidden fire?
Well? have fun ... - he is tormented
I couldn't take the last one.
Faded like a beacon, marvelous genius,
Withered solemn wreath.
His killer in cold blood
He struck a blow ... there is no salvation:
Empty heart beats evenly
The pistol did not waver in his hand.
And what a miracle? .. from afar,
Like hundreds of fugitives
To catch happiness and ranks
Abandoned to us by the will of fate;
Laughing, he defiantly despised
Land foreign language and customs;
He could not spare our glory;
I could not understand at this bloody moment,
What did he raise his hand to?
And he is killed - and taken by the grave,
Like that singer, unknown, but sweet,
The prey of jealousy is deaf,
Sung by him with such wondrous power,
Struck, like him, by a ruthless hand.
Why from peaceful bliss and simple-hearted friendship
He entered this light envious and stifling
For a free heart and fiery passions?
Why did he give his hand to the insignificant slanderers,
Why did he believe the words and caresses false,
He, who from a young age comprehended people? ..
And removing the former wreath - they are the crown of thorns,
Wreathed in laurels, they put on him:
But secret needles are harsh
They wounded a glorious brow;
Poisoned his last moments
Insidious whisper of mocking ignoramuses,
And he died - with a vain thirst for revenge,
With the annoyance of the secret of deceived hopes.
The sounds of wonderful songs were silenced,
Do not give them away again:
The singer's shelter is gloomy and cramped,
And on the lips of his seal. -
And you, arrogant descendants
By the well-known meanness of the illustrious fathers,
Fifth slave corrected the wreckage
The game of happiness offended childbirth!
You, a greedy crowd standing at the throne,
Freedom, Genius and Glory executioners!
You hide under the shadow of the law,
Before you is the court and the truth - everything is silent! ..
But there is also God's judgment, the confidants of debauchery!
There is a formidable judgment: it waits;
He is not available to the sound of gold,
And he knows his thoughts and deeds in advance.
Then in vain will you resort to slander:
It won't help you again
And you won't wash away with all your black blood
Poet's righteous blood!
The note.
* Involuntary indignation seized Lermontov, at the news of Pushkin's death, and he "poured the bitterness of his heart onto paper." The poem "Death of a Poet" ended at first with the words: "And his seal is on his lips." It quickly spread in the lists, caused a storm in high society, new praise for Dantes; finally, one of Lermontov's relatives, N. Stolypin, began to reproach his vehemence in relation to such a gentleman as Dantes. Lermontov lost his temper, ordered the guest to go out and, in a fit of passionate anger, sketched out the final 16 lines “And you, arrogant descendants ...” ...
Arrest and trial followed, overseen by the emperor himself; Pushkin's friends stood up for Lermontov, primarily Zhukovsky, who was close to the imperial family, in addition to this, the grandmother, who had secular connections, did everything to mitigate the fate of her only grandson. Some time later, the cornet Lermontov was transferred "with the same rank", i.e. ensign, to the Nizhny Novgorod Dragoon Regiment, which operated in the Caucasus. The poet went into exile, accompanied by general attention: there were both passionate sympathy and hidden enmity.
Great Russian poet, prose writer, playwright, artist, officer.
Quote: 120 - 136 out of 210
But there is also God's judgment, the confidants of debauchery!
There is a formidable judgment: it waits;
He is not available to the sound of gold,
And he knows his thoughts and deeds in advance.
Then in vain will you resort to slander:
It won't help you again
And you won't wash away with all your black blood
Poet's righteous blood!
But who hasn't done stupid things in their life!
Well? where it will not be better, there it will be worse, and again it is not far from bad to good. (*Hero of our time*)
O selfishness! you are the lever with which Archimedes wanted to raise the globe!
O! our history is a terrible thing; whether you acted noble or low, right or wrong, could have avoided or could not, but your name is involved in history ... anyway, you lose everything: the favor of society, career, respect of friends ... get caught in history! Nothing could be worse than this, no matter how this story ends! Private fame is already a sharp knife for society, you made people talk about you for two days. Suffer twenty years for this. (*Princess Ligovskaya*, 1836)
What women don't cry about: Tears are their offensive and defensive weapons. Annoyance, joy, impotent hatred, impotent love have one expression for them. (*Princess Ligovskaya*, 1836)
Resentment is such a pill that not everyone with a calm face can swallow; some swallow, chewing in advance, here the pill is even bitterer.
One is a slave of man, the other is a slave of fate. The first can expect a good master or has a choice - the second never. He is played by blind chance, and his passions and the insensitivity of others are all connected to his death. (Vladimir Arbenin) (*Strange Man*, 1831)
Some revere me worse, others better than I really ... Some will say: he was a kind fellow, others - a bastard. Both will be false. Is it worth living after this? and yet you live - out of curiosity: you expect something new ... Ridiculous and annoying! (*Hero of our time*, 1838-1839)
Some revere me worse, others better than I really ... Some will say: he was a kind fellow, others - a bastard. Both will be false. Is it worth living after this? but you still live - out of curiosity: you expect something new ... Ridiculous and annoying! ("A Hero of Our Time", 1838-1839)
He knew that it was easy to make people talk about himself, but he also knew that the world did not deal with the same person twice in a row: he needed new idols, new fashions, new novels ... veterans of secular glory, like all other veterans, most pitiful creatures. (*Princess Ligovskaya*, 1836)
He does not know people and their weak strings, because he has been busy with himself all his life. ("Hero of our time")
He sowed evil without pleasure.
Nowhere to your art
He met no resistance
And evil bored him.
She was at an age when it was still not ashamed to follow her, and it became difficult to fall in love with her; in those years when some windy or careless dandy no longer considers it a sin to assure jokingly of deep passion, so that later, for laughter, compromise the girl in the eyes of her friends, thinking by this to give himself more weight ... to assure everyone that she has no memory of him and tries to show that he pities her, that he does not know how to get rid of her ... poor, anticipating that this is her last adorer, without love, out of sheer pride, she tries to keep the naughty as long as possible at her feet her ... in vain: she becomes more and more confused, - and finally ... alas ... behind this period there remain only dreams of a husband, some kind of husband ... only dreams. (about Lizaveta Nikolaevna, *a fading woman* 25 years old) (*Princess Ligovskaya*, 1836)
From now on I will enjoy
And in passion I will swear by everything;
I will laugh with everyone
And I don't want to cry with anyone;
I'll start to deceive shamelessly
So as not to love, as I loved, -
Or it is possible to respect women,
When did an angel cheat on me?
I was ready for death and torment
And call the whole world to battle
To your young hand -
Madman! - once again shake!
Not knowing the insidious betrayal,
I gave my soul to you;
Did you know the price of such a soul?
You knew - I didn't know you!
One of the most interesting mysteries of Russian literature: what happened to Lermontov in 1837, why did he change his writing style so drastically? In short: how did he become a genius from a temperamental graphomaniac?
My main contender for the role of midwife is Belinsky. Most likely, it was between them that a very tough conversation took place. And the "young genius" (in 1837 the poet was 23 years old) had a very high quality face on the table.
Here is from an article of 1841 "Poems of M. Lermontov":
"If by the word 'inspiration' I mean moral intoxication, as if from taking opium or the action of wine hops, a frenzy of feelings, a fever of passion, which compel the uncalled poet to depict objects in some kind of crazy whirling, to express themselves in wild, strained phrases, unnatural turns of speech , to attach a violent meaning to ordinary words - then how can you enlighten me that "inspiration" is a state of spiritual clairvoyance, a meek but deep contemplation of the mystery of life, that it, as if with a magic wand, calls up bright images full of life from the area of \u200b\u200bthought inaccessible to the senses and deep meaning, and the reality surrounding us, often gloomy and discordant, is enlightened and harmonious? .. "
Doesn't it look like it? "frenzy of feelings", "fever of passion", "crazy whirling", "stretched phrases", "unnatural turns of speech" - all one in one characterizes the young "other Byron", and "spiritual clairvoyance", "mild but deep contemplation of the mystery of life "- this is he, but after February 37th.
But the trouble is, by 1837 one single poem by Lermontov, "On the Death of a Poet", was widely known. The trouble is not that it was rather this poem, “holy” for Lermontov, in which “he put his whole soul”, “all his anger” and, in general, “all of himself” was smeared on the wall by the frantic Vissarion. The trouble is that this last experience of graphomania has been forced to be memorized at school for almost a century, completely spoiling the children's taste.
Among the signs of graphomania not mentioned by Belinsky, there is one more: a lie. The "poet" lies in his creation, describing something. He writes not as it was, but as prettier.
Reread? -
The poet died! - slave of honor -
Pal...
This is true.
With lead in my chest...
It is not true. Pushkin was wounded in the stomach.
And a thirst for revenge
It is not true. Before his death, Pushkin forgave Dantes. He especially asked Princess E.A. Dolgorukov to go to the Dantes and tell them that he forgives them.
Hanging your proud head!
The metaphor must be correct in both directions (and so that it looks like, and so that the metaphristic meaning does not contradict the direct one), otherwise there is what is called the dog effect in poetry.ru: a dog can squeal - and this is creepy, you can squeal in an inhuman voice - and this too creepy, but a dog cannot squeal in an inhuman voice - because it's funny.
And to die, "drooping his head" ... Pushkin was dying in bed - I can't imagine how, lying down, you can "droop". Is it possible to die without lying down?
And in this phrase there is a contradiction: either die proudly, or bow your head. Or ... go to a duel - proudly, and after the duel - break down and "droop". As far as I understand, there was neither one, nor the other, nor the third: Pushkin did not die "proudly": he asked the tsar for his family, and there was no self-abasement. The poet simply accepted death.
The soul of the poet could not bear
The shame of petty insults,
It is not true. The grievances were far from petty.
He rebelled against the opinions of the world
It is not true. His duel was not - a challenge to the world.
On the one hand, the tsar was wholly and completely on the side of Pushkin. After the first call, he even took a promise from him that there would be no more duels, that in which case he would be contacted. Yes, and all of Pushkin's entourage, as best they could, tried to keep him from a duel.
On the other hand, the fatal letter to Gekkern became ... Pushkin succumbed to provocation, he played by the rules of the world. By the rules, not against them.
One...
It is not true. During the duel, Pushkin had a wife and children. There were friends who were ready to help him, even if it threatened their personal well-being - the same Danzas was tried after a duel for participating in it as a second. And there were love adventures, too, Pushkin did not abandon them after his marriage either.
Alone as before...
This is all the more untrue. In my opinion, Pushkin's lyrics do not even contain motives of loneliness. Like very few of the poets. Faithful friends, cheerful girlfriends, romantic lovers ... "the hiss of foamy glasses and blue flame punch." He doesn't even seem to know what loneliness is.
Killed! .. Why sob now,
Empty praise unnecessary choir
And the pathetic babble of excuses?
Fate's verdict has come true!
Contradiction. Sarcasm about the "babble of justification" is disavowed by the last line - if the verdict of fate has come true, then there is no one to justify and there is nothing to justify.
Didn't you at first so viciously persecuted
His free, bold gift
Not true. Pushkin is one of the most successful poets in our history. At the age of 17 he was noticed by the old man Derzhavin. Then he received the first fee (gold watch) from the future empress. Further, adult teachers recognized their favorite student as the winner, then he was the first in our history to become a professional. That is, he tried to live by literary work, poetry. He did not succeed very well, but in his time no one else tried ... Fame, recognition, success - it's all about him.
And for fun inflated
Slightly hidden fire?
Also not true. Neither those who "wept" nor those who "praised in chorus" - did not fan the slightly lurking fire. Intrigues around his family were weaved by only a few villains who did not admit to that. The rest - the tsar, Zhukovsky, friends, former lovers - did their best to put out this fire. In outright enemies, only Poletika appeared. Even Dantes, even years later, tried to explain himself, tried to justify himself that he didn’t want that he was aiming at his legs ...
Well? have fun... He's tormented
I couldn't bear the last
This is an unnatural turn of speech.
Withered solemn wreath
Interestingly, in the time of Lermontov - it sounded the same cliché as it does today? That's exactly what it sounded like. Already.
His killer in cold blood
Got hit...
This is not true: Dantes did not strike - he fired offhand:
"Lieutenant Colonel Danzas waved his hat, and Pushkin, quickly approaching the barrier, took aim to shoot for sure. But Dantes fired earlier, not reaching the barrier" (
Empty heart beats evenly
The pistol did not waver in his hand.
But Pushkin also went to a duel - not to shoot in the air. He went to kill. Dantes wanted to shoot into the air, but when he saw Pushkin's eyes, he shot at the enemy. And Pushkin himself - the gun did not flinch. Even mortally wounded, he hit Dantes. What saved him - a button or chain mail, is another question.
And what a marvel? ... from afar,
Like hundreds of fugitives
To catch happiness and ranks
Abandoned to us by the will of fate;
Again, the same contradiction: either - he dragged himself to catch the ranks, or - he was dragged by the will of fate.
Laughing, he defiantly despised
Land foreign language and customs;
Dantes behaved according to the same rules by which all of Europe lived at that time ... Re-read "Dangerous Liaisons" by Choderlos de Laclos, and then once again the story of this damned duel ... Dantes lived by the rules, according to which in his younger years it was fun Cricket himself spent his time. Yes, this whole story: Pushkin - his wife - Dantes, looks like a distorted mirror, like a karmic reflection of another "romantic" story: Pushkin - Vorontsova - her husband. An old husband, a beautiful wife, and a young, devilishly charming rogue abandoned to them by unknown winds.
He could not spare our glory;
I could not understand at this bloody moment,
What did he raise his hand to?
We know more than Lermontov... And it didn't help him... Martynov was Russian.
And he's killed...
This is true
And taken by the grave
What is this expression supposed to mean? what is buried?
Like that singer...
How Lensky was buried, we do not know, this is not described.
Unknown but cute
The prey of jealousy is deaf,
It is not true. "Deaf" jealousy is jealousy towards a woman, to whom you have no right to express jealousy, this is an old jealousy ... And what about Lensky?
"... The poet is waiting for the end of the mazurka
And calls her to the cotillion.
But she can't. It is forbidden? But what?
Yes, Olga has already given her word
Onegin. Oh god, god!
What does he hear? She could...
Is it possible? A little from diapers
Coquette, windy child!
She knows the trick
Already learned to change!
Lenskaya is unable to bear the blow;
Cursing women's pranks,
Goes out, requires a horse
And he jumps. A pair of pistols
Two bullets - nothing more -
Suddenly, his fate will be decided"
Pay attention to the line "Women's cursing pranks" - why is there "deaf"?
Sung by him with such wondrous power,
This is true.
Struck, like him, by a ruthless hand.
It is not true. He could re-read "Eugene Onegin".
Enemies! How long apart
Was their bloodlust taken away?
How long have they been hours of leisure,
Meal, thoughts and deeds
Shared together? Now it's wicked
Like hereditary enemies,
As in a terrible, incomprehensible dream,
They are each other in silence
Prepare for death in cold blood...
Do not laugh at them until
Their hand did not turn red,
Do not part amicably? ..
But wildly secular feud
Fear of false shame
...
In anguish of heart remorse,
hand holding a pistol,
Yevgeny looks at Lensky.
"Well, what? Killed," the neighbor decided.
Killed!.. With a terrible exclamation
Struck, Onegin with a shudder
He leaves and calls people.
And where is the "ruthless hand" here?
Why from peaceful bliss and simple-hearted friendship
He entered this light envious and stifling
This is also not about Pushkin. Or is "peaceful bliss" a euphemism for two Don Juan lists of Alexander Sergeevich? And "simple friendship"? Does this definition fit the visit of the brilliant future Minister of Foreign Affairs Gorchakov to the disgraced supervised poet? Or the poet's answer to the tsar to the question: "Pushkin, would you take part in December 14 if you were in St. Petersburg?" - "Certainly, sir, all my friends were in a conspiracy, and I could not help participating in it."
Why did he give his hand to the insignificant slanderers,
Why did he believe the words and caresses false,
He, who from a young age comprehended people? ..
And removing the former wreath - they are the crown of thorns,
Wreathed in laurels, they put on him:
But secret needles are harsh
They wounded a glorious brow;
I keep thinking, what is so "impermissible" found in the poem "The poet died ..." the king? (This is about the case "On the impermissible verses written by the cornet of the Life Guards of the Hussar Regiment Lermontov and on the distribution thereof by the provincial secretary Raevsky"). Did only the last 16 lines infuriate Nikolai? Or they finally explained to His Majesty that a crown entwined with laurels - a crown, to put it simply - can only be welcomed by a crowned ...
Poisoned his last moments
Insidious whisper of mocking ignoramuses
How were these lines supposed to be perceived by those who spent his last moments with Pushkin, whose whisper he could hear - Dal, Zhukovsky, Pletnev?
I will not rewrite the final sixteen lines of the poem. Confidants of debauchery, executioners of Freedom, greedy crowd, black blood, slave heel... - stamps, stamps, stamps
(Yes, and there it’s a lie. “You lurk under the shadow of the law ...” - The law didn’t hide them under its “shadow”: Dantes was tried and expelled, it was impossible to judge Gekkern - they simply expelled, scandalously, without a farewell audience. The rest of the perpetrators of the duel and are now unknown).
I repeat Belinsky:
"If by the word 'inspiration' I mean moral intoxication, as if from taking opium or the action of wine hops, a frenzy of feelings, a fever of passion, which compel the uncalled poet to depict objects in some kind of crazy whirling, to express themselves in wild, strained phrases, unnatural turns of speech , to give ordinary words a violent meaning, then how will you enlighten me ... "
And now I will quote the well-known lines of the memoirist:
“Stolypin convinced him that it was impossible to judge the foreigner Dantes according to Russian laws, he was a representative of the diplomatic corps.
Lermontov became more and more inflamed and, finally, shouted: "If there is no earthly court over him, then there is the court of God!" These words became the leitmotif of the final 16 lines of the poem "The Death of a Poet". Calling Stolypin an enemy of Pushkin, Lermontov grabbed a sheet of paper and, breaking one pencil after another, began to write. Fifteen minutes later, the famous lines were ready: "And you, arrogant descendants ..." ""
In conclusion, let me remind you of 2 editions of one poem - an early one and an alteration, an edit made AFTER February 1837:
1.
I do not love you; passions
And the old dream rushed off the torment;
But your image in my soul
Everything is alive, although he is powerless;
Others indulging in dreams
I couldn't forget him;
1831
2.
We parted, but your portrait
I keep on my chest:
Like a pale ghost of better years,
He pleases my soul.
And, devoted to new passions,
I couldn't stop loving him.
So the temple left - all the temple,
Idol defeated - everything is God!
1837
*
**
***
P.S.
During the discussion of the article, two specific arguments against were put forward:
1. Lermontov could not know what, thanks to almost two centuries of Pushkin studies, is known to us;
2. This poem... "Death of a Poet" is not about Pushkin. This poem is about a certain generalized poet - about a symbol.
I will answer.
1. Yes, Lermontov might not have known in detail about Pushkin’s conversation with Nicholas I (or he might have known: he was friends with Natalie’s brother Ivan Goncharov, who knew for sure about the audience at the Anichkov Palace in November 1836), could not know about the “justifications "Dantes - did not live, but he could know everything else for sure.
Pushkin said to himself: "I am a public person." Today, a similar term means - to live under the eternal supervision of paparazzi and television cameras, then it meant - eternal gossip and rumors. Upper light is a very narrow circle. Everyone knew about everyone, knew everything. And Lermontov, moreover, served in the Life Guards, and some of his colleagues were part of Pushkin's circle.
Just one example. I was blamed that Lermontov could not know about the nature of Pushkin's injury. So here it is:
"ARENDT Nikolai Fedorovich (1785--1859), surgeon, life physician of Nicholas I. He treated Lermontov in 1832, when a horse hit him in the arena of the Junker School, breaking it to the bone, and he lay in the infirmary, and then in house of E. A. Arsenyeva. In 1837, he supervised the treatment of the wounded A. S. Pushkin and was an intermediary between him and Nicholas I. At the end of January, he was at the sick Lermontov, told him the details of the duel and Pushkin's death.
Fundamental Electronic Library "RUSSIAN LITERATURE AND FOLKLORE"
Lermontov knew that Pushkin had been wounded in the stomach. But "with lead in the chest" is prettier.
2. That in the poem "The poet died", the poet is not Pushkin, in my opinion, I proved. Who? Symbol? Symbol of what? What poet's symbol? Let's reread Lensky:
"... What is the coming day preparing for me?
My gaze catches him in vain,
He lurks in deep darkness.
No need; the law of fate.
Will I fall, pierced by an arrow,
Or she will fly by,
All goodness: wakefulness and sleep
The hour is coming,
Blessed is the day of worries,
Blessed is the arrival of darkness!
XXII.
"The ray of morning light will shine in the morning
And the bright day will play;
And I - maybe I am the tomb
I will descend into the mysterious canopy,
And the memory of the young poet
Swallow the slow Summer..."
Will I fall pierced by an arrow, / bowing my proud head ...
... And I - perhaps I am a tomb / I will descend into a mysterious canopy,
... Well, have fun, he could not endure the torment / the last ...
Everything is the same - both the vocabulary and the construction of phrases. But Pushkin himself concluded this "elegy" with a caustic quatrain:
So he wrote dark and sluggish
(What we call romanticism,
Although there is not enough romance
I don't see; what's in it for us?)
No, Lermontov did not write about the death of Pushkin, as about the death of Lensky. He, according to the habit of all "romantics", put an invented himself in the place of a living hero. And there are no generalizations, there are no symbols - there is a "Muscovite in Harold's cloak ..." who has a "full lexicon of fashionable words."
Faded like a beacon, marvelous genius,
Withered solemn wreath
These two metaphors do not develop each other and are not related to each other, they are just two buzzwords standing side by side.
And about the last 16 lines.
"You, a greedy crowd standing at the throne,
Before you is the court and the truth - everything is silent! .. "
Just think about what kind of Russian court you could say that? Greedy crowd standing at the throne?
Under Ivan III - no. They were building a state, a cowardly tsar-father was erecting a break with the Horde with all "community".
Under Grozny? Unless it was his early youth, and then - that's why he is Terrible.
In times of trouble? So then there was no throne.
During the quietest times? I don’t know ... Russia was then restored piece by piece to the "greedy crowd" then there was not much to snatch.
With Peter? Well, there was no need to surround yourself with upstarts. But they not only made fortunes for themselves, they also went to the forefront of the attacks of Narva, and raised regiments against the Swedes in an attack.
Under Elizabeth-Catherine? Remember Famusov's famous monologue: "that's why we are all proud" and the remembrance of the "fathers"? And who did Great Russia, defeated the Turks and Friedrichs? This is how these "nobles in the case" got the titles of the brightest - together with Königsberg, together with the Crimea.
With Alexander? With Nicholas himself? Well no...
Only a short period of interregnum comes to mind - various German Annas Ioanovnas ...
And the Executioners of Glory at the throne crowded only in Soviet times, when there was only one sentence from the marshal to execution, when Mandelstam was dying at the camp fire, Tsvetaeva was hanged from hopelessness, Mayakovsky shot himself, Yesenin wrote blood on the wall ...
But Lermontov really could not know about them. In general, these lines are nothing about anything. Compare them at least with Pushkin's "My Genealogy":
My grandfather did not sell pancakes,
Didn't wax the king's boots,
I did not sing with the court deacons,
I didn’t jump from crests to princes,
And he was not a runaway soldier
Austrian powder squads;
So should I be an aristocrat?
I am, thank God, a tradesman.
No abstract "deputies of debauchery", no "slave heels trampling on the rubble" - specific indications of specific surnames.
My grandfather when the rebellion rose
In the middle of the Peterhof courtyard,
Like Minich, he remained faithful
The fall of the third Peter.
They fell in honor of the Orlovs then,
And my grandfather is in the fortress, in quarantine.
And subdued our stern race,
And I was born a tradesman.
Not without reason, to learn the last tangled sixteen lines of a famous poem is a death torment for students. What to me in my time, what is now to my son.
I repeat once again: there are no symbols here, there are boyish ideas copied from the Byrons about the "persecuted poet." And there is a poem written in the "romantic" style ridiculed by Pushkin.
Reality was far from romantic:
- these are debts of 120,000 rubles (including - and almost half! - card debts) with Pushkin's annual income of 40,000;
- this is a beautiful wife who needs to be beautifully dressed and put on shoes;
- these are children who need to be fed now and arranged in life later;
- this is that he outgrew his readers, who still expected "romance" from him in the style of "The Fountain of Bakhchisaray", and he wrote "Count Nulin";
- this is the royal "attention" to Natalie, which the whole "society" considered natural and non-negotiable, which after a few years will be easily accepted by Lansky, but Pushkin is a free Pushkin, and not a disciplined retired officer.
And all this is not a childish "shame of petty insults", but very adult problems. Not without reason, there is a hypothesis that this duel was for Pushkin a well-thought-out legalized suicide.
No wonder there is a hypothesis that the notorious "Patent for the title of cuckold" was written by Pushkin himself in order for the duel to take place! So that Nicholas I was forced to send the poet into exile! To get away from Peter, from balls, kings - "to the village, to the wilderness, to Saratov." That is, in Mikhailovskoye.
But 120,000 debts is not poetic! And instead of a real drama, Lermontov wrote ... wrote an operetta: "his killer in cold blood struck, there is no escape." Well, not an operetta - an opera. Also a popular genre.
And the grateful public smashed his creation in "tens of thousands of scrolls."
I’ll answer right away: yes, Lermontov could not have known that Pushkin had exactly 120 thousand debts, but he could not help but know that the poet was in debt, like in silks ... like in his Natalie’s silks.
2009
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This poem would not be taught by heart at school, but studied in the first year of literary faculties, on the subject of how poetry should not be written. With a competition, who will find the most errors in it.
I. And as an introduction, invite the gentlemen of the students to present the following picture: in 1930, the day after the death of Vladimir Mayakovsky, poems by an unknown poet are distributed in Moscow:
Don't tell me "he's dead" - he's alive
Let the altar be broken, the fire still burns.
Let the rose be plucked - it still blooms,
The path of the harp is broken - the chord is still crying! ..
(Nadson "On the Death of a Poet")
Poems scatter in thousands of lists, they talk about poetry everywhere, and there are rumors that even in the Kremlin they paid attention to the young poet.
And having decorated the picture with all these colors, ask the question: what would Vladim Vladimych's friends say to this poet, meeting with him?
“Well, maybe they wouldn’t have stuffed his face…” the future writer would begin to answer, even if he knew a little about the bawler-leader and his futurist friends.
"- Why so severely?"
"- Therefore, from such verses, he would have turned over in his grave!"
And it is true. Because "... the revolution threw into the street the clumsy dialect of millions, the jargon of the outskirts poured through the central avenues; the relaxed tongue of the intelligentsia with its emasculated words: "ideal", "principles of justice", "divine principle", "transcendental face of Christ and Antichrist" - all these whispered speeches in restaurants are crumpled. This is the new element of language. How to make it poetic? The old rules with "dreams, roses" and Alexandrian verse do not work. How to introduce colloquial language into poetry and how to derive poetry from these conversations?..." (Mayakovsky "How to make poetry")
And to make a name for yourself on Mayakovsky precisely with Alexandrian verse and precisely with "roses-harps"! ... For this, indeed, one could be in the face ...
And here Pushkin and Lermontov's "Death of a Poet"? Yes, ask any graduate preparing for the exam, what is Pushkin's literary path, and the boy, without hesitation, will report: from romanticism to realism.
Pushkin laid down his life to write "simply, briefly and clearly." His first poems were sharply divided into those with which he indulged his fellow peers - frivolities written in simple words, and those with which he would like to become famous, that is, put up for sale - all sorts of "Ode to Liberty" there. I will give an excerpt from it, because, although we also taught this Pushkin ode, it is also impossible to remember it:
"Alas! wherever I look -
Everywhere scourges, glands everywhere,
Laws disastrous shame,
Bondage weak tears;
Unrighteous Power Everywhere
In the condensed haze of prejudice
Sat down - Slavery formidable Genius
And Glory's fatal passion"
And How? doesn't remind you of anything? This is very different from:
You, a greedy crowd standing at the throne,
Freedom, Genius and Glory executioners!
You hide under the shadow of the law,
Before you is the court and the truth - everything is silent! ..
But Pushkin was then 18 years old ...
And at the age of 23, at the age of Lermontov, 37, among the "serious" poems of Pushkin, there are already such:
F a u s t
What is white there? speak.
M e f i s t o f e l
Spanish three-masted ship,
Land in Holland ready:
There are hundreds of bastards on it,
Two monkeys, barrels of gold,
Yes, a load rich in chocolate,
Yes, a fashionable disease: it
Recently given to you.
F a u s t
Drown everything.
M e f i s t o f e l
Now.
(Disappears.)
That is, "simple, short and clear." And not romantic.
And among the last poems, poems of the last year - the famous
"From Pindemonti":
I do not grumble about the fact that the gods refused
I'm in the sweet lot of challenging taxes
Or prevent the kings from fighting with each other;
Another, better, I need freedom:
Depend on the king, depend on the people -
Don't we all care? God is with them. Nobody
Do not give a report, only to yourself
Serve and please, for power, for livery
Do not bend either conscience, or thoughts, or neck ...
Find here at least one exclamatory look, at least one shabby metaphor like "withered wreath", at least one pitiful cry: "there is no salvation!"
But millions of children commemorate Pushkin every year with the "shame of petty insults" ... Poor Alexander Sergeevich ....
In general, one cannot turn to the futurist Mayakovsky with verses of the sublime Romance style, because it was with this style that he struggled all his life. Poems to Anna Akhmatova should not be written with a ladder, because after the creator of the ladder "cleaned Akhmatova out of poetry for three years," she was not printed for almost twenty years. And it was not worth writing "dull-romantic" lines about Pushkin, because it looks ... if not a mockery, then a revenge.
Here is Lermontov:
Faded like a beacon, marvelous genius,
Withered solemn wreath.
But Pushkin:
And his song was clear
Like the thoughts of a simple-hearted maiden,
Like a baby's dream, like the moon...
That Lermontov's light has nothing to do with a wreath, that Pushkin's is impossible to fit the thoughts of a blonde, a baby's dream and the moon into one frame. And here is how Bakhtin commented on this passage (Bakhtin M. From the history of the novel word "):
“In the four lines cited above, the song of Lensky himself sounds, his voice, his poetic style, but they are permeated here with the author’s parodic-ironic accents; therefore, they are not separated from the author’s speech either compositionally or grammatically. Before us is really the image of Lensky’s song, but not poetic in the narrow sense, but a typically novelistic image: it is an image of a foreign language, in this case an image of a foreign poetic style (sentimental-romantic).The poetic metaphors of these lines ("like a baby's dream, like the moon", etc.) are here the primary means of representation (what they would be in a direct, serious song by Lensky himself); they themselves become here the subject of an image, namely, a parodic-stylizing image. This novel image of someone else's style (with its direct metaphors) in the system of direct authorial speech (which we postulate) is taken in intonational quotation marks, namely, parodic-ironic ones ... The author himself is almost completely outside the language of Lensky (only his o parodic-ironic accents penetrate this "foreign language").
And in the same language - in a foreign language for Pushkin, almost a parody language for Pushkin - all this memorial poem was written.
II. If you are going to write about a person, then you should at least know a little about him. At least a little... Otherwise (see the first part of the article) of the entire poem, the only true fact fits in two words: "The poet died ...". The rest - and Pushkin is not Pushkin, and Lensky is not Lensky, and Eugene is not Onegin.
III. And one should not at all ascribe to an adult genius one's boyish feelings.
IV. And you have to work on the lyrics. That is, in fifteen minutes, having written sixteen lines, (and in two or three hours - the previous fifty-six), then - with a cooled mind! - you have to read everything. And first - place commas, then - correct spelling errors, then stylistic ones, then the rest - general literary ones. However, the sequence can be any.
Let's read it again:
Pal...
Great start. Beautiful sound and...
"a slave of honor" is a hidden quote from Pushkin's poem "Prisoner of the Caucasus":
But the Russian is indifferently mature
These bloody games.
He loved before the game of glory
And burning with a thirst for death.
Slave of merciless honor,
He saw his end up close,
In fights, hard, cold,
Encountering fatal lead.
As you can see, here is a link to another duel described by Pushkin. In which, by the way, Pushkin gave his standard of behavior in a duel: not to moan: "There is no salvation!" In a duel with Dantes, our great poet was like that.
That is, at the beginning of the poem, Lermontov laid out an extremely accurate image.
But.
The system of images of the work must also be consistent. And if the image of the "slave" at the beginning of the poem bears a reflection of a high essence, then it must remain so until the end, otherwise a comic effect arises.
(As in the joke:
- Well, you are an oak, Vasily Ivanovich!
- Yes, Petka, I am powerful.)
And now we will bring the 1st line closer to the 59th:
The poet is dead! -- slave of honor --
... Fifth slave corrected the wreckage ...
So what about the slave's heel? Not a slave?
With metaphors in this poem - just a disaster.
Metaphor, most often, adds multimedia to the text: it adds visual to the sound range. Every time the word "how" sounds, the reader is invited "in the eyes of his soul" to see the image that stands behind this phrase.
For example:
"Love, hope, quiet glory
The deceit did not live long for us,
Gone are the funs of youth
Like a dream, like a morning mist...
Pushkin
Here, the semantic series is complemented by a visual one: the young man wakes up and the morning fog around him dissipates. And remember how the poem ends?
"Russia will wake up from sleep!"
The metaphorical series is one. We have a romantic but harmonious work.
And now Lermontov:
And for fun inflated
Slightly lingering fire...
Faded like a beacon, marvelous genius,
And now you can guess: does a bad fire that has flared up have anything to do with a good dying light.
And at the same time, to tell fortunes: is it so bad to fan the fire if:
This light is envious and stuffy
For a free heart and fiery passions?
Or is fire bad and flame good? A fiery passion for someone else's wife - for Vorontsova - is it good, but is the fire of jealousy for your own - for Natalie - bad?
Withered solemn wreath ...
Presented the poet as a withered solemn wreath? Now read on:
And removing the former wreath - they are the crown of thorns,
Wreathed in laurels, they put on him ...
Well, what can you imagine here ... How is another wreath removed from one and the third one is put on? And what did Lermontov represent? Most likely nothing. He simply inserted with pleasure another fashionable phrase into the poem - from that same "complete lexicon" that is obligatory for a "Muscovite in Harold's cloak."
Yet:
The singer's shelter is gloomy and cramped,
Have you imagined a gloomy cramped coffin? And what about the lying Pushkin, nickels in front of his eyes? Now read on:
And on the lips of his seal.
This is called the reification of a metaphor: the "seal" loses all its metaphorical quality, it becomes as material as nickels. But nickels, by virtue of their commonness, are at least not funny.
But these are not all the requirements for metaphors... The visual series must somehow correlate with the semantic series. As in the above quoted from Pushkin: captivity - sleep, fog, freedom - dawn.
Or like Mayakovsky's famous metaphor:
Your body
I will cherish and love
like a soldier
shattered by war
unnecessary,
nobody's
saves his only leg.
Why disabled? Because the poet is crippled by love.
Why is Pushkin Lermontov a beacon? Because it's a buzzword. The word used by everyone is a stamp. Let's prove that - stamp:
Here is by no means a brilliant poet Kuchelbecker:
What anguish and anguish I felt,
What grief in this blessed hour?
Did you remember parting with someone you love,
Whose light of life has gone out for the time being?
And here is not a poet at all, but simply a secular lady Daria Fedorovna Fikelmon (from the diaries):
"1837. January 29. Today Russia has lost its dear, dearly beloved poet Pushkin, this wonderful talent, full of creative spirit and strength! And what a sad and painful catastrophe made this beautiful, shining light, which seemed to be destined more and more illuminate everything that surrounded him, and which, it seemed, had before him for many more years!
A stamp is a stamp. "In the morning in the newspaper - in the evening in the verse."
Let's go to the line:
But there is also God's judgment, the confidants of debauchery!
This line kills the poem.
First, because Pushkin was not a model of puritan virtue either. Pushkin's handwritten Don Juan list contains about forty names. At one time, the still young poet received a complaint to the police from the owner of a fashionable brothel in St. Petersburg, as "an immoral person who corrupts her sheep."). I repeat: it was not the head teacher of some boarding school for noble maidens who complained, but the owner of a brothel. Of course, Lermontov hardly knew about this denunciation, but, for example, about Pushkin's novel - after his marriage! - with Countess Dolly Ficquelmont, gossip walked widely.
Secondly, and most importantly: the expression "God's judgment" ...
In the 19th century they knew about this term. Not to mention other things, the novel "Ivanhoe" by Walter Scott was published in 1819 and by the year 37 reached Russia for a long time ("In the autumn of 1963, the collection of Pushkin's autographs stored in the Pushkin House was replenished with several unknown autographs of the poet. These are notes and drawings on book: Ivangoe, or the Return from the Crusades. Composition of Walter Scott. Part Two. St. Petersburg (PD, N 1733 "Year of publication of the book (1826)...". http://feb-web.ru/feb/pushkin /serial/v66/v66-0052.htm).
The key scene in the novel is the judicial duel, "God's judgment". Duel. They were challenged to a duel not to avenge an insult, but for God to decide which of the two is right.
The result of this duel is known: Dantes fired offhand and mortally wounded Pushkin, Pushkin carefully aimed, did not even miss ... and Dantes remained unharmed ... In whose favor was "God's judgment" - the conclusion is obvious.
So, Lermontov, loudly shouting about a cold-blooded killer, and then he refutes himself, hinting that God's judgment has come true. According to the poem - "the verdict came true", and Dantes was simply an instrument of fate: "it was thrown to us by the will of fate."
That is, in this Lermontov's metaphors were consistent.
And that's all about metaphors.
From Gorky's article "On Beginning Writers":
“Indicating to one writer, the author of a long novel, how an unnecessary and often funny third is formed from two words carelessly placed side by side, I reminded him of the saying: “The gut tells the gut the fig.” He published a conversation with me and repeated the saying in this form: "The gut seems to be a fig", not noticing that the last two words of the proverb are formed for the third time "gut-same", - a game of language, which makes the saying interesting in addition to its figurativeness. Such deafness is very common among young writers".
Let me quote the second line of the poem:
With lead in my chest and a thirst for revenge...
I already wrote about the thirst for revenge, which was not there at the time of death, but here pay attention to the first half of this line.
The novice poet Lermontov (at that time, as a poet, he was unknown) also did not hear: "With wine in his chest ..."
Stylistic mistakes.
"I could not understand at this bloody moment, / Why? He raised his hand! / And he was killed ..." - so who was killed?
"... arrogant descendants / Known meanness of the famous fathers" - the descendants of the fathers? These are children, right? They don’t write “he walked with his feet”, because, how could it be otherwise? They write simply: he walked. And they write - the descendants of people, and not the descendants of fathers, grandfathers or great-grandmothers, because if a great-grandmother is mentioned, then only one of her descendants is meant - her beloved great-granddaughter. Although I'm wrong: a great-grandson may be unloved. And not just one...
So...
Why is this poem "sold in tens of thousands of scrolls"? (Let me remind you, for comparison, the circulation of the first edition of Ruslan and Lyudmila, according to researchers, is no more than one thousand copies. (See NIK. SMIRNOV-SOKOLSKY "Stories about Pushkin's lifetime editions" http://feb-web.ru/feb/pushkin /biblio/smi/smi-001-.htm) Because instead of a lump of life - dirty and rude, she was offered a sweet legend - about a suffering poet, hunted down by the then oligarchs.
Why don't I want children to learn this fairy tale? Because she was molded painfully hastily and clumsily.
And how did Pushkin work on poetry? Find any page of his drafts on the Internet and see for yourself
"Death of the Poet" - a poem by Mikhail Lermontov about the tragic death of Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin and the guilt of society in the death of the Poet.
The poem by M. Yu. Lermontov occupies a special place in the history of Russian literature: it is the earliest in time and incomparable in poetic power, a generalizing assessment of the historical, national significance of Pushkin, his “wonderful genius” for Russia, and in this sense, an outstanding act of public, national self-consciousness .
"The Death of a Poet" became a memorial poem to Lermontov, which created great fame for him and showed his public position on the socio-political situation in Russia.
"On the death of a poet"
The poet died! - slave of honor -
Pal, slandered by rumor,
With lead in my chest and a thirst for revenge,
Hanging your proud head!
The soul of the poet could not bear
The shame of petty insults,
He rebelled against the opinions of the world
Alone, as before... and killed!
Killed! .. Why sob now,
Empty praise unnecessary choir
And the pathetic babble of excuses?
Fate's verdict has come true!
Didn't you at first so viciously persecuted
His free, bold gift
And for fun inflated
Slightly hidden fire?
Well? have fun... He's tormented
I couldn't take the last one.
Faded like a beacon, marvelous genius,
Withered solemn wreath.
His killer in cold blood
Brought a blow ... there is no salvation:
Empty heart beats evenly
The pistol did not waver in his hand.
And what a marvel? ... from afar,
Like hundreds of fugitives
To catch happiness and ranks
Abandoned to us by the will of fate;
Laughing, he defiantly despised
Land foreign language and customs;
He could not spare our glory;
I could not understand at this bloody moment,
What did he raise his hand to?
Vladimir Nikolaevich Yakhontov (November 28, 1899, Sedlec (Poland) - July 16, 1945, Moscow), Russian Soviet entertainer, reader, actor, master of artistic expression. Founder of the "one-man theatre" genre.
Since 1922, Yakhontov began to perform on the stage with the reading of poems by A. S. Pushkin, A. A. Blok, V. V. Mayakovsky.
"Speech should sound like poetry" - Yakhontov's creative credo.
Committed suicide by jumping out of a window. According to the memoirs of Nadezhda Mandelstam, "Yakhontov jumped out of the window in a fit of fear that they were going to arrest him."
