Alexey Vasilievich Koltsov

The most important biographical information.

The life and literary fate of Koltsov is complex and dramatic. He was born on October 3/15, 1809 in the family of a Voronezh tradesman-prasol, a cattle dealer. Deprived of the opportunity to study, Koltsov was forced to repeat the path of his father, to become a prasol. He fully experienced the hardened ignorance, inertness, rudeness and cruelty of the philistine-trading environment surrounding him. All his life the poet sought to break out of it into the world of intellectual work and developed spiritual interests. But he died at the age of 33, experiencing a painful discord between his dream and the circumstances he hated. The ideological and psychological image of Koltsov was formed both under the influence of the social and living conditions surrounding him, and under the influence of early relationships with people of progressive convictions: the Voronezh bookseller D. A. Kashkin, the seminarian A. P. Serebryansky, the poet N. V. Stankevich and his circle, especially with Belinsky.

Continuously improving his culture, reading domestic and Western European literary and artistic classics, eagerly following the current literary and theatrical news, the poet wanted to be on a par with the century in all other areas of knowledge.

Entering the circle of quests peculiar to him literary friends, of which Belinsky was the first in the second half of the 30s, Koltsov was seriously engaged in philosophy. In 1840, the poet wrote criticism: “I have been reading your opinions for a long time, reading and teaching; but now I read them more and more, and I learn them more easily, and I understand better ... You are an apostle, and your speech is high, holy, the speech of conviction.

First attempts at pen.

Koltsov is known to millions of people for his clear, sincere, plastically embossed, musical songs. They depict the difficult life of a peasant, poeticize agricultural labor, express love for life and nature, and reveal the Russian character: broad, sincerely cordial, integral, freedom-loving. Many generations memorized the verses “Song of the plowman”, “Harvest”, “Forest”, “What are you sleeping, little man?”. The songs “Don’t sing, nightingale”, “Don’t make noise, rye”, “Bitter share”, “Khutorok”, “Separation” have gained the widest popularity and unfading fame.

But the initial poems (1825-1830) by the self-taught poet, who did not even graduate from the district school, are literary illiterate, artistically helpless and naively imitative. Still not owning either an independent theme, or his own poetic vision, or a developed manner of depiction, the poet was captivated by a wide variety of book influences. Devoting his poems mainly to love vicissitudes, he follows the touchingly sensitive sentimentality of V. A. Zhukovsky, I. I. Dmitriev, A. F. Merzlyakov and A. A. Delvig (“Song of the Morning”, 1826; “Orphan”, “A Coeval”, 1827; “Message to a Young Widow”, 1828), then fascinated by Batyushkov’s Epicureanism (“To the Beautiful Villager”, 1828; “Come to Me”, 1829), then, falling into romantic melancholy, so characteristic of the late V.A. Zhukovsky, I. I. Kozlov and E. A. Baratynsky, is carried away by a dream, “Zemnova is alien”, into another life (“Lament”, 1829; “Reassurance”, 1829; “Evening”, 1830), then it is captured by Pushkin’s bright cheerfulness ("Merry Hour", 1830; "Council of the Elder", 1830).

Koltsov is strongly influenced by the petty-bourgeois "cruel" romance, and he himself composes similar works: "I was with her" (1829), "It's not for me to listen to the magic chant" (1829), "Losing what was cute" (1830) .

In the early poems of Koltsov, artistically amorphous, of different styles, there are mythologisms (“Zephyr”, “Philomela voice”, “Fly to Parnassus”), Slavicisms and archaisms adopted in “ high poetry"("breg", "broadcast", "cheeks", "stared", "listen"), and at the same time rare dialect expressions, like "bot" and "demand". The poet did not yet feel the whole primitiveness of his own experiences. In the poem "The Tale of My Love" (1829), which is poorly organized prose, he wrote with naive open-heartedness: Confess the sacrament, ||Miraculous Sacrament.|| And here in Voronezh|| No one until now|| Didn't want to open it."

Reflections on the meaning of life were already reflected in the poet’s early poems (“Lament”, “Disbelief”, “Earthly happiness”, “What do I mean?”), But more fully in the cycle of philosophical thoughts that appeared from 1833 until the end of his life.

Understanding the content of thoughts, it is a mistake to present their creator as a religious-Orthodox dogmatist or a daring theomachist. Koltsov's thoughts undoubtedly reflected the influence of F. N. Glinka, and in particular N. V. Stankevich and Belinsky. Realizing the meaning human life and the secrets of the universe, the poet understood the continuity of the development of eternally living reality ("God's World", 1837), the interdependence of its phenomena (" Great Mystery”, 1833) and came to the affirmation of man as the most perfect creation of nature, its crown (“Man”, 1836).

Creating a hymn to man, Koltsov merges with all the progressive humanistic domestic literature and philosophy of his time. Influenced objectively idealistic philosophy and conversations with Belinsky, the world appeared before him as an infinitely diverse manifestation of a self-conscious thought, idea (“Poet”, 1840) - “the queen of being” (“Kingdom of Thought”, 1837). Koltsov cannot be denied courage and even audacity of thought. He recognizes the mighty effectiveness of man, his influence on nature (The Twelfth Thought, 1840). Consciousness that is real works of art live for centuries, triumphing over death, fills him with pride (“The Poet”).

Convinced of the eternal development of a constantly renewing, but invariably beautiful being, bowing to the all-transforming power of man, Koltsov is imbued with faith in the onset of better times, when the empty side “reigns again” and young life “noisily feasts” (“Unsolved Truth”, 1836). But his thoughts, no doubt, were imprinted by the ideas of the environment in which he was born, grew up, lived. The courage, discovered by the poet in posing the global problems of being, betrays him in their solution. Koltsov does not switch to consciously materialistic positions, does not become a convinced atheist. His thought “Great, mystery” ends with the confession: “Heavy are my thoughts, Sweet is prayer!” Exhausted from thinking about the meaning of human life, he turns to God as a stronghold that saves from all disturbing questions and restores peace of mind: “I relied on holy Providence a long time ago!” ("The Last Fight", 1838).

Koltsov is aware of the world as a creation of a creative, thinking, divine force ("God's world"). This force is immeasurable, omnipotent, incomprehensible to the human mind (“The Great Word”, 1836), is found everywhere and in everything (“Message”, 1839; “Before the Image of the Savior”, 1839). According to the poet, a person cannot not only change the laws of the universe, but also understand their causes (“Question”). The wisdom, strength and will of man is only a reflection of divine wisdom (“ human wisdom", 1837).

Belinsky, highly appreciating Koltsov's thoughts as "an impulse ... of the spirit to knowledge," could not recognize in them any independently original, philosophical significance in the sense of solving the questions posed in them. Noting in some thoughts the virtues of beauty (“The Great Mystery”, “Unsolved Truth”, “Prayer”, “Question”), the critic considers them mostly weak, clearly inferior in artistic terms to songs. They are "more interesting than the facts of his" inner life“, full of doubts and contradictions”, “rather than as poetic works”. Belinsky is right in singling out the thought “Is it not time for us to leave” (1841) as the best. Leaving air worlds"fruitless sophistication, resolutely emerging" from the mists of mysticism "(idealism. - L. R.), the poet glorifies the beauty of "earthly life" in it, stands on the soil of reality and "common sense".

AT in full agreement with Belinsky, Dobrolyubov finds in Koltsov's thoughts "deep questions with very weak and insufficient answers." Saltykov-Shchedrin also believes that in his thoughts the poet showed his "powerlessness" to right decision who tormented him philosophical problems. Koltsov's thoughts continue to attract the attention of his subsequent admirers. The debate about them does not subside. Their modern researcher (N. N. Skatov) convincingly showed that these works are not isolated from the general literary and philosophical process of that time. In terms of problems and ideological orientation, they have something in common with the works of Stankevich, V. Odoevsky, M. Pavlov, V. Belinsky.

Leading ideas and problems. The main lyrical hero.

Koltsov was not a poet of either the prosperous urban philistinism or the wealthy peasantry, as some researchers of his work claimed. Giving sympathy to the poor peasant and farm laborer, Koltsov does not limit himself to any narrow social barrier. In his poetry, universal principles clearly appear, as convincingly evidenced by "The First Song of Likhach Kudryavich." The poet draws in it a happy, joyful state of a person, not constrained by social and group boundaries. Koltsov's poetry is also alien to national-everyday, social-group, ethnographic narrowness and that abstract psychological scale that would put him above any social barriers.

The development of Koltsov's creativity from the very beginning followed the path of complete democratization of the subject, the crystallization of the national-people's perception of the world. This is a poet of the broad peasant masses, of the entire working people.

The motives of dissatisfaction with life, love of freedom, in one way or another, without ceasing, sound throughout the entire career of Koltsov. With obvious sympathy, he writes about the “homeless orphan” (“Orphan”, 1827), about the traveler weaving on the “skinny nag” (“Traveler”, 1828), about the kid “without a hut”, separated from his beloved rich rival (“Terem ", 1829). In the poem "Earthly Happiness" (1830), he is indignant against those "who crush the people with a painful yoke." Filled with hatred for the arbitrariness and violence of the ruling circles, Koltsov wrote the poem "Forest" (1837), which clearly echoes Lermontov's poem "The Death of a Poet". In the poem “Reckoning with Life” (1840), he angrily exclaims: “Life! .. If God had given strength, I would have smashed you! ...” With obvious sympathy, he embodies the image of the legendary people's leader.

Social and religious contradictions overwhelmed Koltsov until the end of his life. But in these contradictions, however, a clear, bright, life-affirming view of the environment gradually won. Admiring the beauty of the world, the poet exclaims: “I love to live on earth!” ("The World of Music", 1838). Observing the failures and misfortunes that haunt people, he calls them not to reconciliation, but to action: “Get up - what strength, Wave your wings” (“Song” - “In bad weather, the wind ...”, 1839).

Koltsov is an innovative poet. His innovation was reflected primarily in the image of the main lyrical hero. The leading lyrical hero of Koltsov's poems of the mature period becomes a poor peasant, and the defining themes are his life and work, experiences, thoughts and worries, sorrows and joys, ideals and dreams. Koltsov's songs are the apotheosis of this hero, who first appeared in Russian literature. The lyrical hero of Koltsov attracts with his inner and external beauty, cheerfulness, “strong strength” (“Meditation of a Peasant”, 1837) and an indestructible desire for will. Admiring and proud of him, the poet draws him as a good fellow, wielding mighty strength, shimmering in his veins, broad prowess and violent feelings: “What is dear to him, Thunder clouds!” (“The wind blows in the field”, 1838). In front of him, curly and cheerful ("The First Song of Likhach Kudryavich", 1837), with a shoulder "wider than grandfather's", with a chest "high" ("Mower", 1836), "the path is wide." He has "A lot of thoughts in his head - A lot of fire in his heart!" ("The Way", 1839).

Singing the poor peasant, Koltsov for the first time in Russian literature enthusiastically glorified his work. At the same time, not only as socially significant, but also bringing spiritual satisfaction. The famous "Song of the Ploughman" (1831) speaks with admiration of plowing - one of the most difficult types of peasant work. Only someone who was immensely in love with peasant labor could say: "Fun in the arable land." Only one who was undeniably convinced of the greatness and holiness of agriculture could write so penetratingly and tenderly: “We will plow the arable land early With Sivka, We will prepare the grain of the Holy Cradle” (“Harvest”, 1835). His mower, calling the scythe “himself-friend”, fully feeling the beauty and joy of his labor-feat, says with rapture: “Razzut, shoulder! Swing, hand! But, poetizing the peasant and his spiritually exalting work, Koltsov does not fall into a continuous idyll, like the self-taught poets of his time: F. N. Slepushkin, M. D. Sukhanov and E. I. Alipanov.

In the literature about Koltsov, judgments were made about the romanticism of his poetry. In our opinion, it is fair to speak of some romantic tendencies in Koltsov's philosophical thoughts. His poetry, truthful in feelings and circumstances, is realistic. He depicts peasants and peasant women, as they were then, without hiding the gravity of their situation. He is aware and peculiar to them internal contradictions.

Indignant at oppressive social circumstances, Kolnov undoubtedly has serfdom in mind as well. In the poem "Earthly Happiness" (1830) we are talking about the "torturous yoke" crushing the people, and in the poem "Escape" (1838) - about a good fellow hiding from the wrath of the "evil boyar". Koltsov convincingly showed the presence of contemporary social contrasts and conflicts, that his poor hero is economically dependent and oppressed. Often without his own household, family, he lives in "strangers" ("Longing at will", 1839), "in a strange corner" ("Not for joy, not for happiness", 1840). His fate is sad: “Without love, without happiness I wander around the world: I will part with misfortune, I will meet with grief” (“Bitter Share”, 1837).

In Koltsov's poems, the spiritual world of the lyrical hero occupies a dominant place. great attention given to peasant life as social environment. The usual picture of this life is bitter need (“Reflection of a Peasant”, 1832), poverty, material hopelessness (“Reflection of a Peasant”, 1837), caused by constant adversity: hail, drought, fires (“Second Song of Likhach Kudryavich”, 1837). The hardships, misfortunes and misfortunes that now and then lie in wait for the peasant fill him with bitterness, cause “heart-rending sadness” (Herzen).

The main lyrical hero of Koltsov's songs is characterized by religiosity, recognition of divine power and humility to it. He says: “With a quiet prayer, I will plow, sow: Harvest me, God, Bread is my wealth!” ("Song of the plowman"). In his opinion, “Whoever asks God, Yes, loves to work, the Lord invisibly sends to him” (“Reflections of a Peasant”, 1832). But outraged by the unfair deprivation of the poor, this hero, contrary to religious precepts, often loses patience and resignation to fate, imbued with a sense of protest. In the poem “The Daredevil” (1833), pressed by the oppressive circumstances of his life, the daring fellow says: “The fields are not my friend. Scythe - stepmother, Good people - Do not be my neighbors. In the song "The Share of the Poor", the injured farm laborer, for whom strangers have "bitter white bread", free speeches are "connected", curses his "bitter share".

Feeling immense strength within himself (“The Last Struggle”, “To Comrade”), internally rebellious, Koltsov’s lyrical hero dreams of a free will (“That’s how the soul breaks”, 1840). This dream of a free, independent life is most clearly revealed in the poem "The Falcon's Thought" (1840).

The poet draws not only the poverty of the peasant, but also talks about what all farmers desire: a bountiful harvest (“Harvest”), material wealth, contentment, cheerful rest among friends-guests ("Peasant's Feast", 1830).

With feelings of bitter loneliness, longing for the will, the lyrical hero of Koltsov echoes all the freedom-loving poetry of the 30s, and above all with the work of Lermontov. But the aspirations of the Koltsovo hero for freedom do not have certainty and clarity. social purpose. This is a spontaneous, unconscious protest. That's why free life appears to him in the form of robbery. His dreams sometimes do not go further than “living in ... the forests with free will” (“The Daredevil”), getting “expensive dresses, necklaces with pearls” (“Flight”, 1838), “amusing life” (“Treason narrowed”, 1838), “live on the plow” (“How healthy and young”, 1841), “pan-style” (“Flight”), “single” (“Forgive me - goodbye”, 1841), “boyars” (“Pass , dark forests", 1841). But the church rises up against robbery, and then the rebel humbles himself (The Daredevil, 1833).

In Koltsov's poems of the mature period, songs about love are heard (“Enragement”, 1832; “To the Sweetheart”, 1838): “From the Fire” (“Time for Love”, 1837), “ Hotter than the day and fire” (“I loved him”, 1841). This is a deep, beautiful, bright and ideally unchanging feeling (“I was with her”, 1829; “The Last Struggle”, 1838; “Don’t Spill Magic Sounds”, 1839), which brings joy (“The Sun Shines”, 1840), illuminates life with a “merry star” (“You went on a different path alone”, 1839). With her beloved, “winter is spring, night is a clear day” (“Separation”, 1840, with homelessness - “woe is not grief” (“Winds blow”, 1840).

But difficult and often insurmountable obstacles stand in the way of mutually loving people: selfish calculations (“Ah, why they gave me by force”, 1838; “Without Mind, Without Reason”, 1839), social differences (“Escape”), poverty (“Mower” , 1836; "Country trouble", 1838; "Not for joy, not for happiness", 1840), obsolete house-building customs that do not allow the youngest daughter to be given out before the eldest ("Time of love"), inseparability of feelings ("I will not tell anyone" , 1840) and treason ("Betrayal of the betrothed"). This gives the poet's love poems often a dramatic and even tragic character.

In Koltsov's poems about love, an exalted and noble image of a peasant woman arises - a faithful friend of a rural worker. Noting Koltsov’s psychologically truthful depiction of the feeling of love, its ups and downs, Belinsky sees the poet’s great merit in the fact that he “never falls into sentimentality, even where it (this feeling) becomes tender and touching”

Nature in Koltsov's poetry.

Koltsov is in love with nature. Possessing a rare sense of her beauty, he is able to rejoice at her most ordinary, everyday manifestation. He is attracted to the “spread steppe” and “free” (“Mower”). For him, a flower in the valley is “nature’s sweet creation”, breathing something “fragrant and holy” (“Flower”, 1836). He is happy to see how "The beauty of the dawn In the sky caught fire, The sun comes out of the big forest" ("Song of the plowman"). But the poet loves nature not at rest, but in motion (“Harvest”), in its awakening and flowering (“Flower”, “Time of Love”), and not in withering. Late autumn with its bad weather: clouds, fogs, rains - “darkens the light of the eyes” (“Autumn”).

Deeply and tenderly loving nature, Koltsov, however, did not create a single poem dedicated only to her. Nature is not conceived by the poet outside of man. It is perceived by him actively, as an environment for his action, as a source of prosperity and joy for a person. Noting this feature of Koltsov’s poetry, M.E. Saltykov-Shchedrin wrote: “That’s exactly why Koltsov is great, that’s why his talent is powerful, that he never becomes attached to nature for nature’s sake, but everywhere he sees a person hovering above her.”

Nature, which is the source of life and beauty, the area of ​​labor, is spiritualized, enlivened and humanized by Koltsov. With him, “a black cloud frowned”, “came into arms” and shed a “large tear” (“Harvest”), and “the dense forest became thoughtful” (“Forest”). His hero refers to nature as a living being: “Oh, my steppe, free steppe” (“Mower”)

The originality of creativity.

Koltsov's poetry, dedicated in its predominant motifs to the countryside, experiences, thoughts and dreams of a poor peasant, has a uniquely original form. The turning point of Koltsov's work, when he self-determines himself as an original poet, is considered to be around 1830-1831.

Imitators and imitators folk song: Yu. A. Neledinsky-Meletsky, I. I. Dmitriev, A. F. Merzlyakov, A. A. Delvig and others - undoubtedly had a beneficial effect on Koltsov. They convinced him with their creativity of the importance of the song as a species. fiction. It is known that the poems of I. I. Dmitriev, accidentally read by Koltsov in 1825, were, as it were, the impetus for writing his first poems. But he studied with other poets. His artistic method, style, poetic technique took shape primarily under the influence of oral folk art and Pushkin.

Deeply loving oral folk poetry, Koltsov became its indefatigable collector. He recorded many songs he liked, sayings, anecdotes, proverbs, sayings, apt expressions. Pushkin's works, perceived by Koltsov as the highest examples of artistic perfection, introduced him "to the boundless world of beauty and feeling."

It was in Pushkin's poetry of this time that the main trends of Russian literature were most accurately embodied: advanced ideology, nationality, realism, democratization of heroes and literary language. The influence of Pushkin's poetry is especially clearly seen when comparing the following poems by Pushkin and Koltsov: "The Bacchic Song" and "Merry Hour", "The Nightingale and the Rose" and "The Nightingale" (1831). As the most significant and solemn event of his life, Koltsov recalled his meeting with Pushkin, which took place in 1836. As soon as the poet-prasol announced his name, Pushkin, who invited him to his place, grabbed his hand and exclaimed: “Hello, dear friend! I have wanted to see you for a long time."

Speech originality. Visual means.

The truly folk content of Koltsov's songs is already revealed in the poetic vocabulary. Innovatively pushing the boundaries artistic speech, the poet introduces into the lyrics before him an unprecedented number of words related to the life and work of the farmer: “tithe”, “arable land”, “harrow”, “plough”, “threshing floor”, “stacks”, “cage”, “spit”, "bins", "bast shoes", "onuchi", "tug".

The vocabulary of Koltsov's songs is colloquial: “what is the light”, “drowsing” (“Harvest”), “look”, “engaged” (“Village trouble”), “talan”, “help” (in the sense of help), “ pokoshnishit”, “underground” (“Longing at will”), “got late”, “promised” (“Khutorok”, 1839).

Koltsov often uses words, beloved by folk speech and oral poetry, with diminutives and pet suffixes(“birdie”, “killer whale”, “rye”, “bread”, “horses”), adjectives in short form(“tesovy”, “oak”, “lower”, “wide”), verbs in multiple form (“played”, “did not see”, “mumbled”), reflexive particle “sya” (“I wash myself”, “dissolved” ), gerunds with endings in “uchi” and “yuchi” (“smiling”, “singing”, “not looking”), “ova” instead of “oh” in adjectives of the genitive case (“nemilova”, “starova”, “vernova ”, “Temnova”), repetition of prepositions (“for oak tables, for recruited”; “about bread, about mowing”), etc.

Recreating authentic folk speech of his lyrical hero, the poet introduces words with regional accents, like: “shortened” (“Without mind, without mind”), “worked” (“What are you sleeping, little man?”), “Native” (“Mower”), “ prey" ("Stenka Razin").

In the poetic language, he included not only colloquial words, but also whole expressions, turns and phrases: “I bow with my soul” (“Longing for the will”), “my zgad” (“Reflections of a peasant”). Enriching poetic speech, the poet streaks it folk sayings and proverbs, often altered: “Do not be born rich, But be born curly” (“The First Song of Likhach Kudryavich”), “To live a century is not a field to pass behind the plow” (“The Second Song of Likhach Kudryavich”).

The syntax of Koltsov's songs is also found in an organic fusion with folk vernacular vocabulary and phraseology. Achieving clarity, simplicity, intelligibility of poetic language, the poet uses a short, energetic phrase, often beginning or ending with a verb: “Winds are blowing, Winds are violent; Clouds are walking, Dark clouds” (“Russian Song”, 1840); “Beyond the river, on the mountain, the green forest rustles; Under the mountain, across the river, Khutorochek stands ”(“ Farmstead ”).

The unique originality is given to the songs by the injection of verbs imperative mood, starting the phrase: "Razzudy, shoulder", "You smell in the face", "Refresh", "Buzz", "Bow" ("Mower"); “Get up, wake up, get up” (“What are you sleeping, man?”). These verbs enhance the dynamism of the verse. When applied to the speech of the people, the phrasal structure of Koltsovo songs is often not subordinating, but composing, through the unions “yes”, “a”, “and”: “The sun is warming, - Yes in the fall; Flowers bloom - Yes, out of time; And in the spring there was a yellow steppe ”(“ The sun is warming ”). Or: “And you sit, look, Smiling” (“The share of the poor”). The poet's desire to increase the lyrical tonality of the songs caused a frequent appeal to the exclamatory-interrogative organization of the phrase: "Where are you, my days, Spring days, Summer nights, Blessed?" (“Where are you, my days”, 1840). Giving the songs a lively spontaneity, their feelings and thoughts - effectiveness, the poet generously uses ellipses: "On the threshing floor - not a sheaf, In the bins - not a grain" ("What are you sleeping, little man?").

Koltsov's songs are literally patterned with epithets, comparisons and other verbal and visual means. Following the oral folk tradition, the poet tends to constant epithets: “dark forests”, “fast rivers”, “old father”, “black curls” (“Part way, dark forests”). He also refers to epithets-nouns familiar to oral poetry: “maiden soul”, “mother earth”, “horse plowman”, “Bova the strong man”, “sorceress night”). Following the example of the creators of the folk song, Koltsov selects the most emotional, elegant comparisons, mainly from the field of nature: “Let the face burn, Like the dawn in the morning, Like spring, You are good, my bride” (“The Last Kiss”, 1838); “Their eyes are like stars ... their thoughts are like clouds” (“Commemoration”, 1840). Continuing the traditions of oral folk art, Koltsov now and then uses negative comparisons and parallelisms: “Not the dawn from heaven Showed off, Not the moon Admired us!” ("Song", 1841). Or: “It was not a dark cloud that rose, but a strong, mighty army” (“Old Song”, 1841). Following folk poetry, Koltsov applies comparisons in the form instrumental(“a nightingale stray”, “a wave in bad weather”) or uses the pronoun “what” instead of “how”: “The white chest worries, That the river is deep” (“It's time for love”). In a truly folk spirit, Koltsov creates metaphors (“Zorenka caught fire”), metonymy (“we will whiten iron on damp earth”) and others figurative means.

For clearly emotional and pictorial purposes, thickening the colors, enhancing the lyrical tone of the content, the poet now and then introduces synonymous and tautological expressions into the verses: “And the day is white and clear” (“The share of the poor”, 1841), “the path-path” (“ Make way, dark forests", 1841), "sadness-longing" ("Treason of the narrowed one"), "from grief-sorrow" ("The Second Song of Likhach Kudryavich"), "gorma burns" ("Young Reaper", 1836), "winter-winter" ("Deliver"). In the same sense of strengthening the emotional impact on the reader, Koltsov uses anaphoras: “He fell asleep for a long time! I fell asleep deeply! (“Commemoration”), as well as repetitions of identical and synonymous phrases: “The young man does not have a Young wife, The young man does not have a faithful friend” (“Meditation of a peasant”).

Gradation also finds its place in Koltsov's arsenal of means to increase the emotionality of songs. In the form of peculiar gradations - parallels, each stanza of his song “A Bitter Share” is built: “It was a golden time, but it hid; Strength young With the body worn out. And then all the stanzas, revealing the idea of ​​the song outlined in the first stanza, create a gradual increase in the hopeless drama of the hero of the song. Not satisfied with the picture of the woeful life of the destitute poor that he gradually recreates, expanding its meaning to a real symbol, Koltsov completes the poem with an amazing in its relief and lyricism, the image of a once green, but now rotting oak: “A green oak grew on a steep mountain; Under the mountain now He lies - rotting.

The outstanding skill of the poet is also manifested in the sound writing, based mainly on onomatopoeic words: “Buzz, scythe, sparkle all around!” ("Mower"). The poet also widely refers to more complex types of sound writing, for example, to alliterations: “Kiss, lull, caress” (“The Last Kiss”).

Belinsky, admiring the national Russian flavor, extraordinary originality speech features Koltsov's poems, said: "His language is as amazing as it is inimitable."

features of the verse.

Koltsov strove to express genuinely popular feelings and thoughts in the verse structure of his songs that corresponded to them to the utmost. In search of a rhythmic form, the poet turned to the sizes of the sillabotonics - to the iambic ("Flower"), trochaic ("Golden Ring", 1836), amphibrach ("Commemoration"), anapaest ("Last Kiss"). But these dimensions are in their pure form did not meet the song intonation of his work, and he used them more often with obvious digressions. Among the sizes of sillabotonics, the poet preferred trochee and anapaest - sizes that are distinguished by melodiousness. The three-foot and four-foot trochee - malgar, widespread in oral folk poetry, is the most consistent with the life-affirming pathos of Koltsovo poetry. In this meter, with frequent omissions of stresses (pyrrichia), which enhance the songiness and musicality of the verse, “The Forester's House”, “Golden Ring”, “Escape”, “Treason of the Betrothed”, “Village Trouble” were written. Let's remember: “With a quiet | trembling | that ru | -salka | On the shores of their own mustaches | no ”(“ Flight ”).

The two-foot anapaest, swift and energetic, perfectly contributes to the expression of vitality and drama of such songs as “Eyes”, “Khutorok”, “What are you sleeping, little man?”, “I won’t tell anyone”, for example: “Across the river, | on the mountain ,| Green forest | ny rustles | " ("Khutorok"). Modeled after folk songs the poet generously uses dactylic endings: “Torturing | soul | flour | mortal] "(" Betrayal of the narrowed "); "Dances | new | thought up |" ("Village Trouble").

But it turned out to be more suitable for Koltsov not syllabo-tonic, but folk-tonic verse, based on the alternation of equal verbal shares. In each beat, the words are under common stress. key word. An example is the song "Bitter Share". In some of her lines, there are only two words each: “It's golden time; Strength is young; The young man is shaking." In those cases when there are more of them, they go under the general stress, of which there are two in the line: “Without love, without happiness”; "Under the mountain now"; "I'm all over the place."

The poet chose for his songs a five-syllable (“Dare”, “Don't make noise, rye”, “Harvest”, “Mower”) and a six-syllable (“Plowman's Song”), with one (“Dareman”), two (“Ploughman's Song” ) and mixed ("Ring") common stresses. In the poem “The Ring”, two-part or two-strike (two-word or more) lines are combined with one-shock (mostly one-word), for example: “What I look at, I will sigh” (line with two stresses), “They will yearn” (line with one stress) .

In five-syllable, for the first time so widely and skillfully used, Koltsov wrote about half of his poems. Here is his sample: “Dawn flared up with a red frying pan; Fog creeps over the face of the earth ”(“ Harvest ”). In each line of the verse beginning capital letter, there are five syllables. Some of Koltsov's songs are a combination of a six-syllable and a five-syllable. Let's remember: “Don't sing, nightingale, Under my window; Fly away to the forests of my homeland.

It should be noted that these songs, which are tonic in their leading tendency, also tangibly bear signs of one or another syllabotonic measure, most often a chorea, which is traditional for the Russian song style. So, the songs of Likhach Kudryavich are written mainly in a two-beater (two-beater) with rare digressions to a three-beater, for example: “In Golden time(two strokes. - A.R.) Curls curl like hops ”(three strokes). But in terms of tonality, in terms of the nature of the arrangement of stressed and unstressed syllables, the rhythm of these songs is very close to the type of chorea. More often it is a trochee with pyrrhias: “They don’t | comb | scratch | - Golden | taya | la, Wraps | winds | in the rings | tsy Molodetska prowess. In some cases, there is also a pure trochee here: “Hmel | curls | curl"; "Lubov|live in|the world"|.

Rhythmically organizing his poems, Koltsov uses the alternation of five-line (“Will I see a girl”, 1829), six-line (“Hurrah”, 1837), eight-line (“Two farewells”, 1837) stanzas. Many of his poems ("The Time of Love", "The Last Kiss"), especially thoughts ("The Great Secret", "The Silent Poet", 1836), are built on the principle of free stanza. So, the thought "The Great Secret" has four parts that develop the theme, each of them with different amount lines: seven, nine, eight, six. But the vast majority of songs are an alternation of four-line stanzas - clear, chased.

Under the influence of oral poetry, Koltsov created his songs with "semi-rhymes" ("rhymes"), as in the poem "The Young Reaper", or more often even without rhymes. But for blank verse, keeping best traditions folk poetry, the poet generously used internal consonances: “arc - rainbow”, “peaceful thoughts”, “golden wave” (“Harvest”), “scarlet dawn”, “mad mind”, “golden treasury” (“Mower” ). This gives his songs a rare melody.

The plot and compositional originality of the songs.

Koltsov's songs, based on the aesthetic canons of oral folk poetry, are predominantly plot-driven. At the heart of almost any of his songs is an episode, incidents, a fact. So, the song "Young Reaper" tells about the sadness of a girl who met yesterday a good fellow, who has long attracted her. The plot makes Koltsov's songs concrete and entertaining.

recreating peasant life, in which not contentment prevailed, but deprivation, not joy, but grief, Koltsov's songs often carry, as already noted, a dramatic conflict. Moreover, the evolution of Koltsov's poetry is associated with the growth and aggravation of its plot conflict. But the drama of circumstances is almost always opposed by the strength, will, hopes of the lyrical hero for the best and the life-affirming pathos of the author himself. Therefore, in the presence of dramatic conflicts, Koltsov's songs are mostly imbued with optimism. It is no coincidence that one of his last songs ends with the words: “Not loving you, In the villages he was known as a fine fellow; And with you, my friend, Cities are nothing!” (“This night to myself”, 1842).

Closest connection Koltsov's songs with reality, which is so clearly manifested in their plot, is also emphasized by the means of composition peculiar to them. His songs are built different ways. First of all, in the form of a sequentially chronological presentation of one or another everyday event, episode, phenomenon (“Peasant Feast”, “Harvest”, “Mower”, “Village Trouble”). Then, in the form of a monologue-thinking, based on some life event and usually ending with a conclusion (“The Ploughman’s Song”, “Reflections of a Peasant”, “Reflections of a Peasant”). And as an experience due to this or that fact (“Don’t make noise, rye”, “Oh, why did they give me by force”).

But with all these methods of composition, the lyrical hero or author shows their activity, reproaching (“Oh, why they gave me by force”), pleading (“Clip, kiss”, 1838), confessing (“Village trouble”). This activity determines the use of popular dialogues in folk poetry and appeal to Sivka ("The Plowman's Song"), to the forest ("Forest"), to the steppe ("Mower"), sometimes passing through the entire work ("Eyes", 1835; "What are you sleeping, man?"

Dialogues and appeals enliven Koltsov's songs, give them a kind of energy and even stage presence. They can be staged. Creating songs in the traditions of oral folk poetry, Koltsov draws portraits of lyrical heroes with the most general, typical features: this is a “good fellow”, whose “black curls Lie in a brace”, or a “beautiful maiden”, whose “face is white - scarlet dawn, full cheeks, dark eyes” (“Mower”). Nevertheless, the poet strives for sketches and their internal, psychological experiences in external manifestations. So, for a girl, struck by the unexpected news of separation from her beloved, “In an instant, her face flared up with fire, Covered with white snow” (“Separation”). At the reaper, saddened by her beloved, “The head from the shoulders leans on the chest, the ear is cut From the hands falls” (“Young reaper”).

The meaning of Koltsov's poetry.

Reactionary criticism greeted Koltsov's poetry with contempt and disdain, as common folk, muzhik. Denying the gift of the prasol poet, she did not recognize any aesthetic merit in his poems. According to F. Bulgarin, Koltsov's songs are immoral. Progressive criticism in the person of Belinsky recognized him as a poet with a "powerful", "brilliant talent". Considering Koltsov among the top phenomena of Russian poetry, the critic put his songs on a par with the fables of I. A. Krylov, considering him an exponent " new era Russian poetry". Chernyshevsky argued that “in terms of the energy of lyricism, only Lermontov is equal to Koltsov among our poets; in terms of perfect originality, Koltsov can only be compared with Gogol. G. I. Uspensky called Koltsov "a poet of agricultural labor." Dobrolyubov considered Koltsov "a great folk poet", the first to present in his songs "the real life of our commoners as it is, without inventing anything." At the same time, he noted that the poet “lacks a comprehensive view; a simple class of the people appears with him in seclusion from common interests only with their private everyday needs. Correctly pointing out the insufficiency of the "comprehensive view", the critic, it seems to us, underestimated the social discontent and protest expressed in Koltsov's poetry. Saltykov-Shchedrin saw the merits of the poet in that "having enriched our poetic language, he legitimized simple Russian speech in it" and thereby appeared in the history of our literature "as if a supplement to Pushkin and Gogol." According to Nekrasov, expressed in the poem "Unfortunate", Koltsov's songs are "prophetic", according to L. N. Tolstoy, full of "charm and immense power", according to Turgenev, they "will not die as long as the Russian language is alive."

The work of Koltsov, which absorbed the treasures of oral folk lyrics and the achievements of literary life, largely determined the development of subsequent poetry and influenced N. A. Nekrasov, I. S. Nikitin, G. I. Uspensky, L. N. Trefolev, I. 3. Surikov, S. D. Drozhzhin, S. A. Yesenin, D. Bedny, F. Shkulev, M. V. Isakovsky, A. T. Tvardovsky, V. I. Lebedev-Kumach, A. Prokofiev and other poets . Yesenin in the poem "O Russia, flap your wings" recognizes himself as the successor of Koltsov.

Koltsov's poetry had an impact on many poets of the fraternal peoples: Yakub Kolas and Yanka Kupala (Belarus), Gabdulla Tukay (Tataria), Hovhannes Tumanyan (Armenia), Vazha Pshavela (Georgia), Jan Rainis (Latvia) and many others.

Many composers who composed over seven hundred pieces of music turned to his songs. Among these composers are M. I. Glinka, A. A. Alyabyev, A. E. Varlamov, A. L. Gurilev, A. S. Dargomyzhsky, A. G. Rubinstein, M. P. Mussorgsky, N. A. Rimsky -Korsakov, A.K. Glazunov, S.V. Rachmaninov.

Koltsov's poetry is widely recognized abroad as well as our Motherland. It is rightly likened there to the poetry of the great Scottish poet R. Burns, the “immortal” (K. Marx) master of the French song P. J. Beranger. Translated into all European languages, it is highly appreciated by modern progressive readers in all countries.

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Task for conducting regional stage

All-Russian Olympiad for Schoolchildren in Literature

Grade 10 (two options to choose a region)

1 option. Complex analysis story by A.I. Herzen "Tragedy over a glass of grog"

Option 2. Benchmarking poems by A.V. Koltsov "Bitter Share" and A.K. Tolstoy "Perform you, life is an old woman ..."

1 option

A.I. Herzen

TRAGEDY OVER A GLASS OF GROG

To you, my friend Tata,

I give this story

in memory of our goodbye

in Naples.

Essays, silhouettes, shores constantly appear and disappear, weaving their shadow and their light, their thread into the common fabric of the picture moving with us. This passing world, this passing, everything goes, I don’t pass everything - but remains something eternal. Apparently, the eternal goes by - that's why it does not pass. This is how it is reflected in a person. In abstract thought - norms and laws; in life - the flickering of subtle details and disappearing forms. But in every delayed blade of grass of a rushing whirlwind, the same motives, the same forces, as in earthquakes and upheavals - and the storm in a teacup, which was laughed at so much, is not at all so far from the storm: the sea, as it seems. ... I was looking for Vacation home . Tired of the same questions, the same answers, I went up to the tavern, in front of which there was a pillar, and on the pillar there was a portrait of George IV - in a mantle, sewn in the manner of the fur coat that the King of Diamonds wears, in powder, with tousled hair and crimson cheeks. George IV, hung like a lantern, and drawn on a large iron sheet, not only reminded the traveler of the proximity of the tavern, but also with some impatient rattle of the hinges on which he hung. Through the passage I could see a garden and a lawn for playing bowls - I went there. Everything was in order - that is, exactly as it happens in country taverns near London. Tables and benches under the trellis, shells in the form of ruins, flowers planted so that a pattern or a letter comes out; the shopkeepers sat at their tables with their spouses (maybe not with their own) and drank heavily on beer, the shopkeepers and workers played with balls - the weight and size of a huge cannonball, without letting go of the pipe from their mouths. I asked for a glass of grog as I sat down in a stall under the trellis. A fat servant in a very worn and narrow black tailcoat, in black and shiny trousers, raised his head and suddenly, as if burned, turned in the other direction and shouted: "John, vodka and water in the eighth room!" A young, clumsy and disgustingly pockmarked fellow brought a tray and placed it in front of me. No matter how fast the fat attendant's movement was, his face seemed familiar to me; I looked - he was standing with his back to me, leaning against a tree. I saw this figure ... but, no matter how I racked my brain, I could not remember; finally dejected by my curiosity and having seized the moment when John ran for beer, I called the servant. - Yes, sir! 1 - answered the servant hiding behind the tree, and, like a man who once decided on a difficult but inevitable act, like a commandant forced to surrender the fortress, he cheerfully and majestically approached me, somewhat waving a dirty napkin. This majesty showed me that I was not mistaken, that I was dealing with an old acquaintance. ...Three years ago I stayed for a few days in an aristocratic hotel on Isle of Wight 2. In England, these establishments are distinguished neither by good wine nor fine cuisine, but by furnishings, frames and, in the foreground, servants. The waiters in them serve with the importance of our real state councilors of the past - and modern chamberlains in German backyards. The main Waiter in Royal Hotel 3 was an impregnable man, strict with guests, demanding of the living, he was indulgent only to people accustomed to hotel life. He did not spoil the newcomers, and instead of encouraging him, he looked back with a cheeky question: "How can a patty with potatoes and cheese with lettuce cost five shillings?" In everything he did, there was deliberation, because he did nothing casually. In the degree of turning his head and eyes, and in the tone with which he answered "Yes, sir", one could know to the smallest detail the years, the social position and the amount of money spent by the gentleman who called. Once, sitting alone in an office with an open window, I asked him if they allowed smoking here. He stepped back from me to the door - and, looking expressively at the ceiling, he said to me in a voice in which indignation trembled: - I, sir, do not understand, sir, what are you asking? - I'm asking if you can smoke here? - I said, raising my voice, which always succeeds with the nobles who serve in England at the tavern, and in Russia at the attendant's table. But this was not an ordinary nobleman, - he straightened up, but did not get lost, but answered me with the look of Karatygin in Coriolanus: - I don’t know, in my service, sir, this didn’t happen, there were no such gentlemen, - I can check with the governor 4. .. Needless to say, the "governor" ordered me to be escorted to stuffy smoking room 5 for such impudence, where I did not go. Despite the proud disposition and the constantly vigilant feeling. Of his dignity and the dignity of the "Royal Hotel", the chief Waiter became favorable to me, and I owe this not to personal merits, but to the place of birth - he found out that I was Russian. Whether he had any idea about the export of hemp, bacon, bread and government timber, I cannot say - but he positively knew that Russia was sending a huge number of princes and counts abroad and that they had a lot of money. (This was before February 19, 1861.) As an aristocrat by conviction, by social position and by instinct - he learned with pleasure that I was Russian. And, wanting to raise himself in my eyes and please me, he somehow, gracefully playing with a leaf of ivy hanging over the door to the garden, turned to me with the following speech: - About five days ago I served your Grand Duke, - he came with Her Majesty of Osborne. - BUT! “Her Majesty, His Highness 6 ate lunch 7 , your erchduke 8 is a very good young man,” he added, closing his eyes approvingly, and, having thus encouraged me, lifted the silver lid, under which the cauliflower did not get cold. When I drove off, he pointed with his little finger to the janitor at my traveling bag, but even here, wanting to show his favor, he grabbed my notebook and carried it himself to the cab. Saying goodbye, I gave him a hafkron 9 - in excess of the one taken for the service, he did not notice it, and by some magic it sank into the pocket of the vest - such whiteness and starchy elasticity, which we will not interrogate with the laundress ... - ..Ba ! - I said, sitting in the stall of the tavern garden, to the attendant, who gave me a match, - yes, we are old acquaintances! .. It was him. “Yes, I am here,” said Waiter, “and I did not at all resemble either Karatygin or Coriolanus. This was a man broken by deep grief; in his form, in every line of his face, unbearable suffering was expressed, this man was killed by misfortune. He embarrassed me. His thick, ruddy face, fattened to watermelon firmness and fullness by the flesh of the Royal Hotel, now hung in irregular pieces, indicating somehow the muscles in his face; remained a monument of another time. He was silent. "I didn't think so..." I said extremely stupidly. He looked at me with the air of a criminal caught in action, and then looked around the garden, wooden benches, beer, balls, inmates and workers. In his of memory, obviously, the rich table was resurrected, at which the Russian Erchdyuk and Her Majesty were sitting, at which he himself stood, reverently bending over and looking into the garden, planted in a keepsec and cleaned like a boudoir ... the entire dining room was resurrected, with unnecessary vases and goblets , with heavy, thick silk curtains - and his own impeccable tailcoat was resurrected, and white gloves, with which he held a silver tray with an account that disheartened an inexperienced traveler ... And then - a din of playing balls, clay e pipes, plebeian ginwater 10 and eternal beer draft 11 . - Then, sir, it was a different time, - he said to me, - and now it's different! .. - Waiter, - shouted a little spree, banging a tin stack on the table, - a pint of gafa-naf 12, but rather, please! 13 My old acquaintance looked at me and went for a beer - there was so much humiliation, shame, self-contempt in his look, so much insanity preceding suicide that a chill ran through my veins. The villager began to pay with copper, I turned away so as not to see the extra penny. The dam was broken, he wanted to tell me something about the coup that overthrew him from the "Royal Hotel" I "to" George IV. " Op came up to me, without my call, and said: - I am very glad to see you in full health. - What are we doing! - How did you take it into your head to take a walk in our backwoods? - I'm looking for a house. - There are a lot of houses, right here, after going ten steps to the right, and even another one. And about what happened to me, that's for sure, everything that I earned from an early age, everything perished - everything up to a farthing ... You must have heard about Tiperary bankruptcy - that's where everything perished. I read it in the newspapers, at first - I didn’t believe it, I rushed , as if damaged, to the solicitor 14 - he says: "Leave all care, you will not save anything, but only spend the last - here, for example, take the trouble to give me six shillings six pence for advice. "I walked, walked the streets - a day I walked all over - I think, what can I do here, from the cliff and into the sea - drown myself - and drown the children - I was even scared, when he met them. I came down sick - this is the first misfortune in our business - a week later I returned to the service - of course, there is no face, but inside it seems like a wound does not give rest. - The governor noticed twice: that I look sad, that they don’t come here from funerals, guests don’t like sad faces. And then in the middle of dinner I dropped the dish, - forever such a case never happened, - the guests laugh, and the landlord takes me aside in the evening and says: "You should look for yourself another place - you can’t serve an intemperate person here." - How? I say, I was sick. - Well, so be treated, - but here there is no place for such people. Word for word, it went big - in retaliation, he slandered me in all the hotels as a drunkard and a brawler. No matter how I fought, there is no place, - I changed my name, like some kind of thief, and began to look for a place at least for a while, - no, no; meanwhile, everything, even the wife's earrings and brooch - they were given to her by the duchess, with whom she lived for four years in the position of Upperlady-maid 15 - everything went on the hook. I had to pawn a dress - this is the first thing with us - without a dress they will not be accepted into any good institution. I sometimes served in temporary buffets and in this wandering life I completely wore myself out - I myself don’t know how the owner of the George IV received me, - and he looked with disgust at his old tailcoat. - I can earn a piece of bread for the children, and the wife ... she is now ... - he paused, - she erases on others, don't you need it, sir, here's a card ... she erases very well. And before, never ... never ... she ... well, what to interpret - where the beggars can choose work. If only he didn’t ask for mercy, but only hard ... A tear, trembling on an eyelash, flashed and dripped onto his chest, no longer covered with a vest made of popular print or brass with white enamel. - Waiter! shouted from the other side. - Yes, sir! He left and so did I. II I have not seen such sincere, destructive pain for a long time. This man was obviously succumbing under the weight of the blow that destroyed his existence, and, of course, he suffered no less than all the fallen figures, nailed from all sides to the English coast ... No less? Didn't he suffer ten, a hundred times more than Ludwig-Philip, for example, who lived near "George IV"? Major sufferings, before which whole centuries usually stop, stricken with horror and compassion, for the most part get big people. They have an abyss of strength and an abyss of healing. The blows of an ax on an oak are heard throughout the whole forest, a wounded tree stands to itself, shaking its top, and the grass falls in a ridge, cut by a scythe, and we, without noticing, trample it with our feet, going about our business. I have seen so many misfortunes that I recognize myself as a connoisseur, an expert in this matter, and that is why my heart turned over at the sight of an impoverished servant - for me, who saw so many great beggars, ... Do you know what it means everywhere, and especially in England, the word beggar is beggar, pronounced by himself? Everything is contained in this word: medieval excommunication and civil death, the contempt of the crowd, the absence of a vakon, a judge ... any protection, deprivation of all rights ... even the right to ask for help from one's neighbor ... ... Tired, insulted, this man returned to his kennel from the George IV, haunted by his memories, with his open wound in his chest - and there he was met by the Duchess's senior maid, who, by his grace, became a laundress. How many times, probably powerless, to lay hands on himself, that is, to leave his children to starvation, he sought relief from the only comforter of the poor and suffering, from the genie, from the slandered genie, who took off so much burden, so much bitterness and so many lives , - whose continuation would be one hopeless suffering, one pain in an invisible darkness ... ... All this is very good - but why did this person not become higher than his misfortune? In essence, being a pompous lackey in the "Queen's Hotel" or a modest sexual "George IV" - God knows what the difference is ... - For a philosopher, - but he was a tavern servant, philosophers are rarely among them, - I remember only two: Aesop and J.-J. Rousseau - and even then the latter left his profession at a young age. However, one cannot argue, it would be much better if he could rise above his misfortune - well, if he could not - But why couldn't he? - Well, you ask Macaulay, Lingard, and so on ... but I'd better tell you about other beggars someday. Yes, I knew great beggars - and that's why that I knew them, I pity the servant in "George IV" - and not them. 1864

Option 2

A.V. Koltsov

BITTER SHARE

Nightingale stray

Youth has flown

A wave in bad weather

Joy faded.

It's golden time

Was, but hid;

Strength is young

Worn out with the body.

From the turmoil-thought

The blood froze in the heart;

That he loved like a soul, -

And that changed.

Like a blade of grass, the wind

The young man staggers;

Winter chills the face

The sun is burning.

For the time being

All I have become obsolete;

And my caftan is blue

Fell off my shoulders!

Without love, without happiness

I wander around the world:

I will disperse with misfortune -

I will meet grief!

On a steep mountain

Green oak grew

Under the mountain now

He lies rotting...

A.K. Tolstoy

To serve you, life is an old woman,

Screaming clerk,

What are you, barking, called out,

Pushed into the sides of the good fellow,

Disheveled his heavy thoughts!

You drowned out that gossip ringing,

drowned out many songs,

Trampled all God's flowers,

What made their way through sorrows!

Get lost, life is an old woman!

Let me spread across the sky

Scatter with a free soul

Song of freedom, endless!

1 Yes sir! (English)

2 Isle of Wight.

3 as a waiter at the Royal Hotel

4 hosts (from the English governor).

5 smoking room

6 His Majesty

7 breakfast (from English lunch)

8 Grand Duke (from English archduke)

9 half a crown (from the English half crown)

10 vodka (from English ginwater)

11 cheap beer

12 in half (half beer, half vodka) (from the English halfand-half)

13 please! (English)

14 solicitor, attorney (from the English solicitor)

15 head maid (English)

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Task for the regional stage

All-Russian Olympiad for Schoolchildren in Literature

Grade 10 (two options to choose a region)

1 option. Comprehensive analysis of the story by A.I. Herzen "Tragedy over a glass of grog"

Option 2. Comparative analysis of poems by A.V. Koltsov "Bitter Share" and A.K. Tolstoy "Perform you, life is an old woman ..."

1 option

A.I. Herzen

TRAGEDY OVER A GLASS OF GROG

To you, my friend Tata,

I give this story

In memory of our goodbye

In Naples.

Sketches, silhouettes, coasts incessantly appear and disappear, - weaving its shadow and its light, its thread into the common fabric of the picture moving with us.

This passing world, this passing, everything goes, I don’t pass everything - but remains something eternal. Apparently, the eternal goes by - that's why it does not pass. This is how it is reflected in a person. In abstract thought - norms and laws; in life - the flickering of subtle details and disappearing forms.

But in every delayed blade of grass of a rushing whirlwind, the same motives, the same forces, as in earthquakes and upheavals - and the storm in a teacup, which was laughed at so much, is not at all so far from the storm: the sea, as it seems.

I was looking for a country house. Tired of the same questions, the same answers, I went up to the tavern, in front of which there was a pillar, and on the pillar there was a portrait of George IV - in a mantle, sewn in the manner of the fur coat that the King of Diamonds wears, in powder, with tousled hair and crimson cheeks. George IV, hung like a lantern, and drawn on a large iron sheet, not only reminded the traveler of the proximity of the tavern, but also with some impatient rattle of the hinges on which he hung.

Through the passage I could see a garden and a lawn for playing bowls - I went there. Everything was in order - that is, exactly as it happens in country taverns near London. Tables and benches under the trellis, shells in the form of ruins, flowers planted so so that a pattern or a letter comes out; the shopkeepers sat at their tables with their spouses (maybe not with their own) and drank heavily on beer, the shopkeepers and workers played with balls - the weight and size of a huge cannonball, without letting go of the pipe from their mouths.

I asked for a glass of grog as I sat down in a stall under the trellis.

A fat servant in a very worn and narrow black tailcoat, in black and shiny trousers, raised his head and suddenly, as if burned, turned in the other direction and shouted: "John, vodka and water in the eighth room!" A young, clumsy and disgustingly pockmarked fellow brought a tray and placed it in front of me.

No matter how fast the fat attendant's movement was, his face seemed familiar to me; I looked - he was standing with his back to me, leaning against a tree. I saw this figure ... but, no matter how I racked my brain, I could not remember; finally dejected by my curiosity and having seized the moment when John ran for beer, I called the servant.

Yes, Sir! 1 - answered the servant hiding behind the tree, and, like a man who once decided on a difficult but inevitable act, like a commandant forced to surrender the fortress, he cheerfully and majestically approached me, somewhat waving a dirty napkin.

This majesty showed me that I was not mistaken, that I was dealing with an old acquaintance.

Three years ago I stayed for a few days in an aristocratic hotel on Isle of Wight 2. In England, these establishments are distinguished neither by good wine nor fine cuisine, but by furnishings, frames and, in the foreground, servants. The waiters in them serve with the importance of our real state councilors of the past - and modern chamberlains in German backyards.

Chief Waiter at Royal Hotel 3 was an impregnable man, strict with guests, exacting with the living, he was indulgent only to people accustomed to hotel life. He did not spoil the newcomers, and instead of encouraging him, he looked back with a cheeky question: "How can a patty with potatoes and cheese with lettuce cost five shillings?" In everything he did, there was deliberation, because he did nothing casually. In the degree of turning his head and eyes, and in the tone with which he answered "Yes, sir", one could know to the smallest detail the years, the social position and the amount of money spent by the gentleman who called.

Once, sitting alone in an office with an open window, I asked him if they allowed smoking here. He stepped away from me towards the door - and, looking expressively at the ceiling, he said to me in a voice in which indignation trembled:

I, sir, do not understand, sir, what are you asking?

I ask if you can smoke here? - I said, raising my voice, which always succeeds with the nobles who serve in England at the tavern, and in Russia at the attendant's table.

But this was not an ordinary nobleman - he straightened up, but did not get lost, but answered me with the air of Karatygin in Coriolanus:

I don’t know, in my service, sir, this didn’t happen, there weren’t such gentlemen - I’ll check with the governor 4 ...

Needless to say, the "governor" ordered me to be escorted to the stuffy smoking room 5 for such impudence, where I did not go.

Despite the proud disposition and the constantly vigilant feeling. Of his dignity and the dignity of the "Royal Hotel", the chief Waiter became favorable to me, and to this I owes no personal merit, and the place of birth - he found out that I was Russian. Whether he had any idea about the export of hemp, bacon, bread and government timber, I cannot say - but he positively knew that Russia was sending a huge number of princes and counts abroad and that they had a lot of money. (This was before February 19, 1861.)

As an aristocrat by conviction, by social position and by instinct, he learned with pleasure that I was Russian. And, wanting to elevate himself in my eyes and please me, he somehow, gracefully playing with a leaf of ivy hanging over the door to the garden, turned to me with the following speech:

About five days ago I served your Grand Duke - he came with Her Majesty from Osborne.

Her Majesty, His Highness 6 ate lunch, your erchduke 8 is a very good young man,” he added, closing his eyes approvingly, and, thus encouraging me, lifted the silver lid, under which the cauliflower did not get cold.

When I drove off, he pointed with his little finger to the janitor at my traveling bag, but even here, wanting to show his favor, he grabbed my notebook and carried it himself to the cab. Saying goodbye, I gave him a hafkron 9 - in excess of the one taken for the service, he did not notice it, and by some magic it sank into the pocket of the waistcoat - such whiteness and starchy elasticity, which you and I will not interrogate at the washerwoman ...

Ba! - I said, sitting in a tavern garden stall, the servant who gave me a match - yes, we are old acquaintances! ..

It was he.

Yes, I'm here, - said Waiter - and I didn't look at all like either Karatygin or Coriolanus.

This was a man broken by deep grief; in his form, in every line of his face, unbearable suffering was expressed, this man was killed by misfortune. He embarrassed me. His thick, ruddy face, fattened to watermelon firmness and fullness by the flesh of the Royal Hotel, now hung in irregular pieces, somehow indicating the muscles in his face; remained a monument of another time.

He was silent.

I didn’t think about it ... - I said extremely stupidly. He looked at me with the air of a criminal caught in the act, and then looked around the garden, wooden benches, beer, balls, inmates and workers. In his memory, obviously, a rich table was resurrected, at which the Russian erchdyuk and her majesty were sitting, at which he himself stood, reverently bending over and looking into the garden, planted in a keepsec and cleaned like a boudoir ... the whole dining room was resurrected, with unnecessary vases and cups, with heavy, thick silk curtains - and his own impeccable tailcoat was resurrected, and the white gloves with which he held silver tray with bill, which disheartened the inexperienced traveler... And then - the din of playing balls, clay pipes, plebeian gin water 10 and eternal draft beer 11 .

Then, sir, there was another time, - he said to me, - and now it's different! ..

Waiter, - shouted the inmate, who had gone on a bit of a spree, banging the pewter glass on the table, - a pint of gafa-naf 12, but rather, please! 13

My old acquaintance looked at me and went for a beer - there was so much humiliation, shame, self-contempt in his look, so much insanity preceding suicide that a chill ran through my veins. The villager began to pay with copper, I turned away so as not to see the extra penny.

The dam was broken - he wanted to tell me something about the coup that overthrew him from the "Royal Hotel" I in "George IV" Op came up to me, without my calling, and said:

I am very glad to see you in full health.

What are we doing!

How did you take it into your head to take a walk in our backwoods?

I'm looking for a house.

There are a lot of houses, right here, after going ten paces to the right, and even another one. As for what happened to me, it's definitely wonderful.

Everything that I earned from my childhood, everything perished - everything to the farthing ... You must have heard about tiperary bankruption - it was then that everything perished. I read in the newspapers, at first - I didn’t believe it, I rushed, how damaged, to the solicitor 14 - he says:

"Leave all care, you will not save anything, but only the last will be spent - here, for example, take the trouble to give me six shillings six pence for advice."

I walked, walked the streets - I walked the whole day - I think what to do here, from the cliff and into the sea - drown myself - and drown the children - I even got scared when I met them. I came down sick - this is the first misfortune in our business - a week later I returned to the service - of course, there is no face, but inside it seems like a wound does not give rest. - The governor noticed twice: that I look sad, that they don’t come here from funerals, guests don’t like sad faces. And then, in the middle of dinner, I dropped the dish - there was no such case in my life - the guests laugh, and the landlord takes me aside in the evening and says: "You should look for yourself another place - you can’t serve an intemperate person here."

How? I say, I was sick. - Well, so be treated, - but here there is no place for such people.

Word for word, it went big - in retaliation, he slandered me in all the hotels as a drunkard and a brawler. No matter how I fought, there is no place - I changed my name, like some kind of thief, and became look for a place for a while, - no as no; meanwhile, everything, even the wife's earrings and brooch - they were given to her by the duchess, with whom she lived for four years in the position of Upperlady-maid 15 - everything went on the hook. I had to pawn a dress - this is the first thing with us - without a dress they will not be accepted into any good institution. I sometimes served in temporary buffets and in this wandering life I completely wore myself out - I myself don’t know how the owner of the George IV received me, - and he looked with disgust at his old tailcoat. - I can earn a piece of bread for the children, and the wife ... she is now ... - he paused, - she erases on others, don't you need it, sir, here's a card ... she erases very well. And before, never ... never ... she ... well, what to interpret - where the beggars can choose work. If only not to ask for mercy - but only hard ...

A tear, quivering on an eyelash, flashed and dripped onto his chest, no longer covered with a vest of lubok or brass with white enamel.

Waiter! shouted from the other side.

He left and so did I.

I have not seen such sincere, destructive pain for a long time. This man was obviously succumbing under the weight of the blow that destroyed his existence, and, of course, suffered no less than all the fallen figures washed up on the English coast from all sides ...

No less? .. Yes, it's full, isn't it? Didn't he suffer ten, a hundred times more than Ludwig-Philip, for example, who lived near "George IV"?

Major sufferings, before which whole centuries usually stop, struck by horror and compassion, mostly go to big people. They have an abyss of strength and an abyss of healing. The blows of an ax on an oak are heard throughout the whole forest, a wounded tree stands to itself, shaking its top, - and the grass falls in a ridge, clipped oblique, and we, without noticing, trample it with our feet, going about our business. I have seen so many misfortunes that I recognize myself as an expert, an expert in this matter, and that is why my heart turned over at the sight of an impoverished servant - for me, who saw so many great beggars,

Do you know what it means everywhere, and especially in England, the word beggar - beggar, pronounced by himself? Everything is contained in this word: medieval excommunication and civil death, the contempt of the crowd, the absence of a vakon, a judge ... of any protection, deprivation of all rights ... even the right to ask for help from one's neighbor ...

Tired, offended, this man returned to his kennel from George IV, haunted by his memories, with his open wound in his chest - and there he was met by the head maid of the duchess, who, by his grace, became a laundress. How many times, probably powerless, to lay hands on himself, that is, to leave his children to starvation, he sought relief from the only comforter of the poor and suffering, from the genie, from the slandered genie, who took off so much burden, so much bitterness and so many lives , - whose continuation was one hopeless suffering, one pain in the invisible haze...

All this is very good - but why did not this man rise above his misfortune? In essence, being a pompous lackey in the "Queen's Hotel" or a modest sexual "George IV" - God knows what the difference is ...

For a philosopher - but he was a tavern servant, among them there are rarely philosophers - I remember only two: Aesop and J.-J. Rousseau, - and even then the latter left his profession at a young age. However, it is impossible to argue, it would be much better if he could rise above his misfortune - but what if he could not?

Why couldn't he?

Well, you can ask Macaulay, Lingard, and so on... but I'd better tell you someday about other beggars.

Yes, I knew the great beggars - and because I knew them, I pity the servant in "George IV" - and not them.

1864

Option 2

A.V. Koltsov

^ BITTER SHARE

Nightingale stray

Youth has flown

A wave in bad weather

Joy faded.

It's golden time

Was, but hid;

Strength is young

Worn out with the body.

From the turmoil-thought

The blood froze in the heart;

That he loved like a soul, -

And that changed.

Like a blade of grass, the wind

The young man staggers;

Winter chills the face

The sun is burning.

For the time being

All I have become obsolete;

And my caftan is blue

Fell off my shoulders!

Without love, without happiness

I wander around the world:

I will disperse with misfortune -

I will meet grief!

On a steep mountain

Green oak grew

Under the mountain now

He lies rotting...

^ 1837

A.K. Tolstoy

To serve you, life is an old woman,

Screaming clerk,

What are you, barking, called out,

Pushed into the sides of the good fellow,
10 vodka (from English ginwater)

11 cheap beer

12 in half (half beer, half vodka) (from the English halfand-half)

13 please! (English)

14 solicitor, attorney (from the English solicitor)

15 head maid (English)

11th grade student Anna Nosenko

The gift of creativity is given to a few chosen favorites of nature, and is given to them not equally. There are artists whose works the circumstances of their lives can give one character or another, on whose creative talent they have no influence: these are genius artists.

They rule over circumstances and always sit deeper and further than the line outlined by their fate, and, under the general external forms characteristic of their age and their people, manifest ideas common to all ages and all peoples. The creations of geniuses are eternal, like nature, because they are based on the laws of creativity, which are eternal and unshakable, like the laws of nature, and whose code is hidden in the depths creative soul because they show great idea of man and mankind, always understandable, always accessible to our human feeling.

We honor A.V. Koltsov as such a poet-genius

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The originality of Koltsov's poetry.

Plan:

1. A.V.Koltsov - the son of the Russian people, the genius of his work.
2. The nationality of Koltsov's poetry:

a) the fortitude and power of the Russian character in Koltsov's poetry;

b) Koltsov's originality;

c) the poetry of agricultural labor;

d) the heroes of Koltsov are people of the soil;

e) “Khutorok” is a Russian ballad, “Khutorok” is a drama.

3) Writers about Koltsov. Koltsov and modernity.

The gift of creativity is given to a few chosen favorites of nature, and is given to them not equally. There are artists whose works the circumstances of their lives can give one character or another, on whose creative talent they have no influence: these are genius artists.

They rule over circumstances and always sit deeper and further than the line outlined by their fate, and, under the general external forms characteristic of their age and their people, they manifest ideas common to all ages and all peoples. The creations of geniuses are eternal, like nature, because they are based on the laws of creativity, which are eternal and unshakable, like the laws of nature, and whose code is hidden in the depths of the creative soul, because they manifest the great idea of ​​man and humanity, always understandable, always accessible to our human feeling.

We revere A.V. Koltsov as such a poet-genius. From this point of view, we look at his talent; he possesses a small but true talent, a gift of creativity that is shallow and not strong, but genuine and not strained, and this is not quite usual, it does not happen very often. Koltsov A.V. belongs to the number of self-taught poets, with the only difference being that he possesses a true talent.

Koltsov is a Voronezh tradesman, a master craftsman. Having completed his education at a parish school, that is, having learned the primer and the four rules of arithmetic, he began to help his elderly father in small business transactions. Reading Pushkin and Delvig for the first time opened to him the world that his soul yearned for. Meanwhile, his household chores went on as usual; the prose of life replaced poetic dreams; he could not completely indulge in either reading or fantasy. One satisfied sense of duty rewarded him and gave him the strength to endure labors that were alien to his vocation.

How was talent to mature here? How could a free, energetic verse be developed? And nomadic life, and rural pictures, and love, and doubts alternately occupied, disturbed him; but not all the varied sensations that keep alive a talent already matured, already nurtured in its strength, lay a burden on this inexperienced soul; she could not bury them in herself and did not find a form to give them an external being. These few data explain both the advantages and disadvantages, and the nature of Koltsov's poems. A few of them are printed from a large notebook, not all of them are of equal value; but they are all as curious as the facts of his life.

FROM the greatest force, in its entirety, Koltsov's talent was expressed in Russian song. Early on, he felt an unconscious desire to express his feelings in the form of a Russian song, which so fascinated him in the mouths of the common people. In addition to songs created by the people themselves and therefore called “folk”, before Koltsov we did not have artistic folk songs, although many Russian poets tried their hand at this kind. Russian songs could only be created by a Russian person, the son of the people... In the songs, both the content and the form are purely Russian. Koltsov was born for the poetry he created. He was the son of the people in the full sense of the word. The life among which he was brought up and grew up was the same peasant life, although somewhat higher than it. Koltsov grew up among the steppes and peasants. Not in words, but in deeds, he sympathized with the common people in their sorrows, joys and pleasures. He knew his way of life, his needs, grief and joy, the prose and poetry of his life - he knew them firsthand, not from books, not through study, but because he himself, both by nature and by his position, was completely Russian human.

It was impossible to merge one's life more closely with the life of the people, as Koltsov naturally did. He was pleased and touched by the rye, rustling with a ripe ear, and he looked at an alien field with the love of a peasant who looks at his field, irrigated by his own sweat. And therefore, bast shoes, and torn caftans, and disheveled beards and old onuchs boldly entered his songs - and all this dirt turned into pure gold of poetry with him. The motive of many of his songs is either need and poverty, or struggle from a penny, or lived happiness, or complaints about fate-stepmother. In one song, a peasant sits down at the table to think about how he can live alone; in the other it expressed the peasant's reflection on what he should decide - whether to live in strangers, or at home to quarrel with his old father, tell fairy tales to children, get sick, grow old. So, he says, although it is not that, but it would be so, but who will marry the beggar? “Where is my excess buried?” And this reflection is resolved into sarcastic irony.

Wherever you look - everywhere is our steppe,

On the mountains - forests, gardens, houses;

At the bottom of the sea - piles of gold,

The clouds are coming - they are carrying the outfit!

But if there is a matter of grief and despair of a Russian person, there Koltsov's poetry reaches a lofty level, there it reveals the terrible power of expression, the amazing power of images.

Sadness fell - heavy longing

On a twisted head;

Death tortures the soul,

Out of the body the soul asks ...

And what, at the same time, is the strength of the spirit and will in the very despair:

At night under a storm I saddled a horse,

Went on the road without a road -

Woe to mumble, amuse life,

With an evil share to transfer ...

("Treason narrowed").

In the song "Oh, why me" - a storm of despair of a strong male soul, powerfully relying on itself. Here is the sad cooing of a turtle dove, the deep, soul-rending lament of a tender female soul condemned to hopeless suffering...

The poet must be original without knowing how, and if he has to care about something, then not about originality, but about the truth of expression: originality will come by itself if there is genius in the poet's talent. Koltsov possesses such originality in the highest degree.

The best songs of Koltsov represent an amazing wealth of the most luxurious, most original images in the highest degree of poetry. From this side, his language is as surprising as it is inimitable. Where, from whom, besides Koltsov, can we find such turns, expressions, images, with which, for example, are strewn, so to speak, two songs of Likhach Kudryavich?

The white chest is worried

That the river is deep -

The sand will not be thrown from the bottom.

In the face of fire, in the eyes of fog ...

The steppe is fading, the dawn is burning ...

If Koltsov had written only such plays as "Council of an Elder", "Peasant Feast", "Two Farewells", "Tiff", "Ring", "Not a shimmy, you are a rye", "Dare", etc., - and then in it would be impossible not to recognize something ordinary in his talent. But what can be said about such plays as Harvest, Mower, Bitter Share, Time for Love, The Last Kiss, The Wind Blows in the Field, Separation, Sadness of a Girl, Thought falcon"? - Such plays speak loudly for themselves, and whoever sees in them a loud talent, there is nothing to waste words - they don’t talk about flowers with the blind. As for the plays: “Forest”, “Oh, why me”, “Treason of the betrothed”, “Escape”, “The sun is shining”, “Khutorok”, “Night” - these plays belong not only to the best plays of Koltsov, but also to the number wonderful works Russian poetry.

In general, we say, in terms of the energy of lyricism with Koltsov, of our poets, only Lermontov is equal; in perfect originality, Koltsov can only be compared with Gogol.

At one time, Gleb Uspensky wrote about the main all-encompassing and all-penetrating beginning of life - about the power of the earth. Ouspensky also reveals the concept of "the power of the earth" as a special nature of relations with nature, so that the word "land" in fact turns out to be a synonym for the word "nature". Such relationships are based on special character labor - agricultural. As one of the main arguments, Uspensky cited Koltsov’s poetry as a poet of agricultural labor: “The poetry of agricultural labor is empty word. In Russian literature there is a writer who cannot be called otherwise than a poet of agricultural labor - exclusively. This is Koltsov.

It was the idea of ​​such a work that became the main idea of ​​Koltsov's poetry. Koltsov has a poem that perhaps most fully expresses this "idea" of agricultural labor. This is the “Song of the Ploughman”, memorized by many generations, glorified. “In the whole of Russian literature, there is hardly anything, even from a distance, resembling this song, making such a powerful impression on the soul,” wrote Saltykov-Shchedrin.

Well, trudge, sivka,

Arable land, tithe,

Let's whiten the iron

About the damp earth.

beauty dawn

Lit up in the sky

From the big forest

The sun comes out.

Koltsov's hero represents the entire labor process as a whole. What is this very picture of labor in The Plowman's Song? It seems to be plow? Like sowing? And threshing? All at once.

Because the plowman is both a sower and a harvester.

I'm having fun

Harrow and plow

I'm cooking the TV

I pour grains.

I look fun

On the floor, on the stacks,

I pray and wind...

Well! Move on, sivka!

The plowman plows, but he knows how he will sow. And he knows not with an abstract mind how he will gather what he has sown, reap, thresh. He walks across the arable land, but sees the threshing floor and stacks. He works on plowing, and thinks about rest. And not at the end of the passed furrow, but at the end of all work:

Our sickle will shine here,

The scythes will ring here;

Rest will be sweet

On heavy sheaves!

In "The Ploughman's Song" - not just the poetry of labor in general, it is the poetry of spiritualized, organic labor, bearing a universal, but not abstract character, included in nature, almost in space.

Carrying the spiritual beginning, the work itself is joyful and cheerful: “Fun in the arable land ... I am having fun ... I am looking cheerfully ...” This work is organically connected with nature, because spiritualized nature is also felt as an organism. The images here are striking in their almost childish immediacy - already in the twentieth century, Bunin told how Chekhov admired the definition: "The sea was big." The epithet delighted refined writers with its absolute artlessness and spontaneity. Koltsov has such a “childish” epithet quite natural:

beauty dawn

Lit up in the sky

From the big forest

The sun comes out.

This quiet song has a beneficial and life-giving effect on the soul; it makes love both its creator and all this crowd of workers about whom it speaks. One feels how much strength and goodness is sown in this crowd, how many good opportunities it contains!

All Koltsov's poems, for which the hard work of the peasant served as the subject, breathe the same sad sympathy for the worker, the same love for nature. Take, for example, the song "Harvest".

And from the mountain of heaven

The sun is looking

got drunk on water

The earth is full.

To fields, orchards

On the green, Rural people

Won't look at:

Rural people

God's grace

Waiting with trepidation

And prayer.

Koltsov has no landscapes. He has the whole earth at once, the whole world. Here, one glance captures everything at once: fields and mountains, sun and clouds, thunder and rainbows, “all directions of the white world” - a cosmic spectacle.

Everything lives in this integral, not separately, not separately sensed world. This picture is spiritualized, humanized. But there are no biased comparisons with the human world. This world lives on its own, not only animatedly, but also sincerely:

Cloud black

frowned

What did you think

As if I remembered

Your homeland...

And we believe in such a perception, because it is not only the author's, but is fixed in the forms developed by the age-old folk consciousness of people who felt kinship with this world, who felt themselves part of the cosmos. Their “cherished thoughts” awaken “at the same time as spring”, together with nature. Therefore, although the poem is called "Harvest", it is not only about the harvest, but about the entire agricultural cycle included in the natural cycle, because the work of people directly coincides with the "work" of nature and is part of it.

Everywhere man is in the foreground; everywhere nature serves him, everywhere she pleases and calms him, but does not absorb, does not enslave him. That is precisely why Koltsov is great, and that is why his talent is powerful, that he never becomes attached to nature for nature's sake, but everywhere he sees a man hovering above her. Such a broad, reasonable understanding of man's relationship to nature is found in almost one Koltsovo.

The heroes of Koltsov are people of the soil. They are strengthened in labor, in nature, in history. This is where their strength and power are determined. In the poem "Mower" the hero knows his lineage:

Do I have a shoulder

Wider grandfather;

Chest high -

My mother.

On my face

paternal blood

I lit it in milk

Dawn red.

Mother, father, grandfather ... But in fact, the pedigree of the same mower is much wider than his immediate family, his own family. Therefore, the hero of Koltsov is deprived of names. In this poem, simply Mower. The usual folk turnover "blood with milk" has become an image. The very heroism of the heroes of Koltsov is natural. But this is because they no longer work even in nature, but, as it were, in nature itself. Such is the heroism of the Mower, manifested in labor. The steppe itself, into which the Mower goes and which he mows, is without end and without edge.

Koltsov has his own geography - his steppe is almost the whole earth:

Oh you, my steppe,

The steppe is free,

You are wide, steppe,

Spread out

To the Black Sea

Moved up!

But this scale is also the definition of a person who came to visit her, walking along it, almost like a fairy-tale hero:

Cheer up, shoulder!

Wave your hand!

You smell in the face

Wind from noon!

Refresh, excite

The steppe is spacious!

Buzz, scythe,

Like a swarm of bees!

Moloney, braid,

Shine all around!

To match the Mower, his beloved. That - that "to match", it is good and significant. And it seems to be defined traditionally: “white face”, “scarlet dawn”.

The face is white

scarlet dawn,

Cheeks are full

Eyes are dark

They brought the young man

From mind-mind.

In "Kosar" not only Kosar works - the poetic language itself works powerfully and with inspiration. At the end of labor, everything is moderated, the real everyday framework is returned to everything:

I'll dig a pile,

I will outline haystacks;

The Cossack gives me

Handful of money.

Household, but not ordinary. And therefore, the payment is nevertheless presented as "a handful of money", as a "treasury" and even as a "golden treasury". Koltsov's money is always poeticized: wealth, treasury. In Kosar:

I turn back to the village -

Directly to the elder:

Didn't pity

His poverty

So pity

Golden treasury!...

Koltsov's songs express the elements of the national folk life and popular national character, these are very synthetic songs, where the epic is combined with the lyrics and often turns into drama. I really like the famous poem "Khutorok". Koltsov himself called "Khutorok" a Russian ballad. Much here comes from the song and unites "Khutorok" with it:

Over the river, on the mountain

The green forest is noisy;

Under the mountain, across the river,

The farm is worth it.

Koltsov's landscape itself is extremely simple, not detailed, not spelled out. They don’t peer into it, they don’t get used to it - they live in it.

And the characters in "Khutorka" are unambiguous in song: just "a young widow" and "a fish", "a merchant", "a daring fellow" - the contenders for her are rivals. "Khutorok" is essentially a "little opera", because it is based on a truly dramatic situation with the death of heroes, although there is no story about this death itself, about the murder. It's not about the murder itself. It arises on the basis of a wider, very Russian, very national. That is why Koltsov separates "Khutorok" from dramas and calls it a Russian ballad. There is in this "Russian ballad" one beginning, one element. This is a riot. Walk no matter what. This word is here with each of them.

And the fisherman

Walk, spend the night

Came to the farm.

And the young widow

Tomorrow, my friend, with you

Happy to play all day.

And the merchant:

And under the case fell -

Walk in health!

The word is not random. This is not fun at all, but it is a walk "by chance" of Russian people who have fallen - revelry in spite of everything: an agreement, the weather, the enemy. This is revelry, marching under the banner of formidable fatal signs, taking place under the sign of death, disastrous revelry.

The ballad "Khutorok", "Khutorok" - "drama", this is a song - a dashing song - an explosion. The music here is danceable, almost without a chant. That's why I like her. The song is spilled in the "Khutorka".

Over the river, on the mountain...

Under the mountain, across the river...

This night - midnight ...

Wanted to visit...

Hug, kiss...

It is also in the minted proverbial, song formulas:

There is grief - do not grieve,

There is a thing - work,

And under the case fell -

Walk in health!

And after the drama has been completed and departed, the general musical song element continues to sound, lives even with dots, not only concluding, but continuing, leading to infinity:

And since then in the farm

Nobody lives;

Only one nightingale

Loud singing songs...

Koltsov is great precisely for that deep comprehension of all the smallest details of the Russian common life, that sympathy for his instincts and aspirations, with which all his best poems are saturated.

In this respect, Russian literature does not present a personality equal to him.

Koltsov comes to our time in its urgent and acute problems: national consciousness in its connection with the historical, primarily folk-historical tradition, the village as a world that is currently undergoing a colossal restructuring, nature and man on a new basis, reaching its global sensation ... - all this, and much more, appeals to Koltsov. And all this one way or another is already understood or guessed now by poets, many and different:

“... I am convinced of only one thing: as long as the Russian language is alive, Koltsov lives on a par with The Tale of Igor's Campaign and“ Bronze Horseman»…»

(Pavel Antokolsky).

"Koltsov will always live like Russia, like Yesenin, a poet, unthinkable without Koltsov."

(Evgeny Vinokurov).

“... By 2068, the genealogical poetic tree will grow wider, the ancestor of which was Koltsov ... Through Yesenin, they will also turn to Koltsov, for whom time is working in this sense.”

(Vyacheslav Shoshin).

“All this - and tears of anguish and loneliness, and the feeling of Russian prowess, and prayerful delight before the beauty of nature, before the secrets of the worldview - everything was necessary for the soul, everything is necessary. And I found all this in the poems of Alexei Koltsov.

(Alexander Yashin).