You recently hugged the sky,
And lightning wrapped around you menacingly;
And you made mysterious thunder
And she watered the greedy land with rain.
Enough, hide! The time has passed
The earth was refreshed and the storm passed,
And the wind, caressing the leaves of the trees,
He's driving you out of the calm heavens.
1835
“The Cloud” by Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin was written in 1835.
« Late Pushkin achieves amazing spiritual enlightenment in prose and in lyrical creativity. The delight before the rebellious beauty of sensual passions disappears, the dark clouds and blizzards of vain earthly anxieties disappear, and a tender contemplation of spiritual beauty in nature and in man appears.
Just as nature is cleansed and renewed in stormy weather, so the soul (in the poem it is symbolized by the image of a cloud), passing through stormy sensory temptations, is renewed and reborn, joining the harmony and beauty of the surrounding world. In the poem “Cloud” Pushkin joyfully welcomes this harmony, this spiritual enlightenment» .
« The great poet used images of storms in the literal and figurative sense more than once in his works, for example, in the poem “Storm”, “Winter Evening”, “Cloud” and others... The philosophical meaning of the poem by A.S. Pushkin’s “Cloud” is that the author shows that nature and man are inextricably linked... In the poem “Cloud” (1835) Pushkin joyfully welcomes this harmony, this spiritual enlightenment» .
Poem by A.S. Pushkin's "Cloud" can be viewed not only as a sketch of nature, as a philosophical reflection, but also as a response to the decade of the Decembrist uprising. From a historical point of view, the poet recalls the events of the recent past (the Decembrist uprising, exile), sees echoes of those events in the present (the ban on the publication of his works). In this regard, the image of a thunderstorm is the semantic center of the poem, since the images of clouds, storms, thunderstorms are symbolic. The thunderstorm is the persecution to which the poet was subjected for his freedom-loving poems.
From the above it follows that the theme of the poem “Cloud” is the contemplation of nature by the lyrical hero, and the idea is a reflection of the social upheavals and hardships that the poet had to endure through an inextricable connection and unity with nature. Nature is cleansed and renewed in stormy weather - so the soul of a person (the lyrical hero) is resurrected in admiration of the beauty and harmony of the surrounding world.
Let's look at the text of the poem in more detail.
The composition of the poem is unique. Before us are three paintings, three parts, connected together by meaning. Conventionally, they can be designated as follows:
1. The present(a lonely cloud rushes across the sky / ban on publishing works);
2. Past(recent thunderstorm / Decembrist uprising);
3. Pacification(the last trace of a cloud in the calmed skies / the soul of the lyrical hero seeks peace, familiarity with the harmony and beauty of the surrounding world).
Each part has its own keywords and a certain style.
So the first quatrain is characterized by despondency. Words like this help us understand “you alone”, “sad shadow”, “sad... day”.
The second quatrain is aggressive. This is evidenced by the use of phrases such as “it wrapped itself around you menacingly”, “it made mysterious thunder”, “the greedy earth”. In addition, aggression is created by repeated “growling” consonants in the words “around”, “menacingly”, “thunder”.
There is a sense of peace in the last stanza with words like “passed”, “refreshed”, “rushed”, “drives from the calmed skies”.
The poem is written in amphibrach tetrameter with truncation (in this case, with an incomplete foot at the end of the last two lines of each stanza), thanks to which the poem becomes similar to the philosophical reflection of the lyrical hero. On the other hand, smoothly sounding lines seem to calm the raging elements.
Let's pay attention to the vocabulary. At first glance, all the words in the text are simple and understandable, but if we read more carefully, we will notice words such as “azure”, “hide”, “passed”, “trees”.
« Azure" - this is one of the shades blue color, the color of the sky on a clear day. According to some scientists, this word is borrowed from Polish or Czech.
The outdated forms of the words “hide” and “passed by” give an expressive tone to the text of the poem.
« Dreves" - i.e. trees, this word is not used in modern Russian.
These words set the reader in a solemn mood and serve to more fully reveal the meaning of the poem.
To give the text special elegance, the author uses semantic repetitions: exact lexical repetitions ( “you are the only one”, “and”), synonymous repetitions ( “closed” - “wrapped”, “passed” - “rushed”), root repeats ( “sky” - “heaven”, “earth” - “earth”, “storm” - “storms”).
Of particular note is the pronoun “ You" and its forms " you", which is the content center of the poem. This keyword occurs six times in the text; it concentrates the ideological content of the text of the poem.
Most of the text consists of verbs. The richness of verbs (plus one gerund) gives the poem dynamism, energy, and tense rhythm, indicating a quick change of action: rushing, inducing, saddening, hugging, entwining, publishing, drinking, hiding, passing, refreshing, rushing, chasing, caressing. The tense and type of verbs are interesting. In the first stanza there are verbs of the present tense, in the second - of the past. Thus, we see a response to the events of the past and a reflection of the phenomena of reality.
The poem is characterized by parallel rhyme. Male and female rhymes successfully alternate: the first two lines of each stanza are female - the last two stanzas are male rhyme. Thanks to the feminine rhyme, the poem is chanted. Completing each stanza with a masculine rhyme, on the one hand, gives completeness to each paragraph, on the other hand, makes the poem more solemn and sonorous.
Let's pay attention to the phonetic side of the text. It is not difficult to notice the alliteration on sonorant consonants r, l, m, n:
Pos l units n I'm a cloud R asseya nn oh boo R And!
Od n And you n you're eating like crazy n Ouch l basics R And,
Od n And you n driving around n s l wow those n b,
Od n and you bake l look l hiccuping de n b.
You n fuck n eating n o circle m about l yeah l A,
AND m ol n Ia g R oz n wrapped around you l A;
And you published l and thai n quality nn y g R O m
And a l h n yuu ze m liu poi l and in the rain m.
Dovo l b n oh juice R Oops! By R A m And n ova l ah,
Ze ml I'll refresh l ass and boo R I p R O m cha l ah,
And you R, l askaya l sources d R eves,
Calm you down nn oh th n it n fuck
The combination of these consonants is very successful. Thanks to this technique, it seems to the reader that the lyrical hero pronounces these words easily, in a singsong voice; they flow like music from his heart.
The syntax of the poem is peculiar. In the first two paragraphs we observe anaphora:
You're the only one rushing around clear azure,
You're the only one you cast a dull shadow,
You're the only one sadden the jubilant day...
AND lightning wrapped around you menacingly;
AND you made mysterious thunder
AND watered the greedy earth with rain.
Anaphora " you're the only one
"sets a certain rhythm for the poem. Behind the threefold repetition of words, reproach and indignation sound. Anaphora on " AND
» shows stringing simple sentences as part of a complex This stylistic figure is called polyunion. The triple use of the conjunction here is not accidental, but intentional. Thanks to this technique, speech slows down with forced pauses; polyunion emphasizes the role of each word, creating unity of enumeration and enhancing the expressiveness of speech.
The text contains two exclamatory sentences, the first of which is nominative. This is a proposal-appeal " The last cloud of the scattered storm!" Second - incentive exclamatory sentence « Enough, hide!" Rhetorical appeal and rhetorical exclamation create the meaningful center of the work, conveying the mood of the poet, who feels a sense of indignation towards those who deprive him of the opportunity to create freely.
The sentences of the first paragraph are constructed clearly and concisely, according to a certain pattern: subject - predicate - minor members(definition - addition).
Alone you rush across the clear azure,
You alone cast a dull shadow,
You alone sadden the jubilant day.
The same rigor in the construction of sentences is observed in the last stanza: subject-predicate:
... The time has passed,
The earth became refreshed and the storm passed...
The integrity of the text is achieved thanks to coordinating conjunctions « And", and non-union proposals, connected in meaning.
The text contains epithets denoting the internal state: "pos. l units n I'm a cloud", " R asseya nn oh boo R and", "yas n Ouch l basics R and", "y n s l wow those n b", " l hiccuping de n b", "thai n quality nn y gro m", "A l h n yuu ze ml yu", "calm down nn s n fuck". The epithet " greedy land" To enhance the reader's impression, the poet uses the hyperbolic word " greedy" We see exaggerated greed, the desire to absorb something. Unexpected compatibility of lexical-semantic words clear azure, calm skies, scattered storm, mysterious thunder fills them with new content.
The animation of the cloud appears not only in the clear landscape-symbolic character of the poem, but also in the presence of personifications “you are rushing”, “you are leading”, “you are sad”, “you were hugging”, “lightning... was wrapped around”, “you were making... watering”, “the wind... is driving”, “the earth has been refreshed”, “the time has passed”. Cloud is Living being, symbolizing the soul of the lyrical hero, which goes through stormy sensual temptations, is renewed and reborn, and joins the harmony and beauty of the surrounding world.
Thus, this lyrical miniature is an opportunity to talk about the human world, his soul. Having analyzed the text, it is easy to notice that the basis of the poem is the technique of allegory - allegory. The images of clouds and storms reflect the social upheavals and hardships that the poet had to endure. Lexical means syntactic constructions, morphological features, means of expression contribute to this, making the text richer and more unique. Metrics, rhyme and type of rhyme introduce an element of philosophical reflection into the poem.
The last cloud of the scattered storm!
Alone you rush across the clear azure,
You alone cast a dull shadow,
You alone sadden the jubilant day.You recently hugged the sky,
And lightning wrapped around you menacingly;
And you made mysterious thunder
And she watered the greedy land with rain.Enough, hide! The time has passed
The earth was refreshed and the storm passed,
And the wind, caressing the leaves of the trees,
He's driving you out of the calm heavens.
Analysis of Pushkin's poem "Cloud"
Alexander Pushkin is rightfully considered one of the first Russian poets, who in his poems used the literary technique of identifying nature with a living being, which is very common today. An example of this is the lyrical work “Cloud”, written in 1835 and which became a kind of hymn to the summer rain.
From his first lines, the author turns into a cloud, which, after a storm, rushes lonely across the azure sky, as if seeking shelter. Watching her, Pushkin admires how thoughtfully our world is arranged, but at the same time reminds the heavenly wanderer that her mission has already been completed, and now it is time to leave the sky. “You alone cast a gloomy shadow, you alone make a joyful day sad,” the poet notes.
Trying to drive away the cloud that so darkens his mood, Pushkin, nevertheless, perfectly understands that everything in this world is interconnected, and until recently this heavenly wanderer was so necessary and long-awaited. The poet emphasizes that it was she who “fed the greedy earth with water” when everything around needed life-giving moisture. And the thunder and lightning that accompany this amazing phenomenon, served as a reminder to all of us that even an ordinary cloud must be treated reverently, sublimely and with a certain amount of respect.
However, the author immediately contradicts himself and addresses his interlocutor quite familiarly: “Enough, hide yourself! The time has passed,” the poet calls, emphasizing that the cloud has already fulfilled its mission, and now “the wind, caressing the leaves of the trees, drives you from the calm heavens.” With this appeal, Pushkin wants to emphasize not only the fact that the world is changeable and diverse, but also to draw the attention of readers to a simple truth - everything in life must obey certain laws established not by people, but by some higher powers. The author emphasizes that their violation deprives both nature and man of that amazing harmony that gives a feeling of true happiness. After all, if a harmless cloud could darken the poet’s mood, what can we say about human thoughts and actions that can bring much more pain and disappointment? Understanding this, Pushkin, using a simple and very understandable example, explains how important it is to do everything in a timely manner, so as not to later regret what happened and not be expelled, like a rain cloud that turned out to be out of place and at the wrong time on the heavenly horizon.
The last cloud of the scattered storm!
Alone you rush across the clear azure,
You alone cast a dull shadow,
You alone sadden the jubilant day.
You recently hugged the sky,
And lightning wrapped around you menacingly;
And you made mysterious thunder
And she watered the greedy land with rain.
Enough, hide! The time has passed
The earth was refreshed and the storm passed,
And the wind, caressing the leaves of the trees,
He's driving you out of the calm heavens.
Analysis of the poem “Cloud” by Pushkin
The poem “Cloud” (1835) is a brilliant example of Pushkin’s landscape lyricism. In it, he uses the technique of personification, addressing the cloud as if it were a living creature. Thanks to this, the poem has great expressiveness and artistic beauty.
About hidden meaning There are two points of view of the work. The first is associated with the romantic interpretation of the image of a cloud. Romantic poets considered clouds to be symbols of everyday problems and misfortunes that gather over a person’s head. Thickening clouds meant immediate danger. A storm with thunder and lightning symbolized the struggle of the romantic hero with hostile forces. Bad weather was also associated with negative emotions overwhelming the human soul. But the weather is a rapidly changing phenomenon. The storm is replaced by a clear sunny day. In the same way, a person finds the strength to cope with his problems. Having expelled fear and hatred from his heart, he again experiences joyful and bright feelings. New vital forces awaken in him. After the passing hurricane, all human sensations are filled with a special freshness of perception.
According to another point of view, the poem is dedicated to the tenth anniversary of the Decembrist uprising (“dispersed storm”). The Decembrists are seen as a necessary shock to society. The poet completely shared the views of the rebels, so the cloud “produced mysterious thunder” and “watered rain” on the land yearning for moisture. “Mysterious thunder” and “rain” are the Decembrists’ ideas about a fair social order. They should have influenced human society(“greedy land”), guide him on the right path. The uprising failed, and the Decembrists, like clouds, were scattered. Society calmed down, and imaginary prosperity reigned again. The ideals of the Decembrists and their rebellion were condemned. Pushkin remains true to these ideals, therefore he compares himself with the last cloud. He felt dissatisfied, therefore, among a carefree society (“a jubilant day”) he seemed strangely and suspiciously thoughtful (“casting a sad shadow”).
Regardless of what meaning Pushkin himself put into the poem, it is a wonderful work dedicated to nature. In addition to personification, the poet successfully uses antithesis, contrasting the picture of a menacing storm with a calm day. The image of the last cloud, which becomes a borderline phenomenon between two opposing states of nature, looks very vivid.
"Cloud" is a shining example landscape lyrics of Alexander Sergeevich Pushkin. Despite the fact that the poem was written in the late period of his work, when the poet was gradually retreating from his traditional romantic principles, it absorbed the main features of Russian romanticism.
The work is dated April 13, 1835. A little later, in May of the same year, readers will see for the first time a new creation, published in the Moscow Observer magazine. Despite the fact that later the poet’s legacy was more than once subjected to negative criticism from many literary researchers, “Cloud” became proof of the talent of the mature Pushkin, for which it was called a kind of hymn to the summer rain and the harmony of man with nature.
The poem is written in a form atypical for Pushkin - amphibrachium tetrameter with truncation in the last two lines of each stanza (incomplete feet can be traced). Female and male rhymes alternate. This makes it possible to give the text not only a smooth, moderate rhythm, but also some similarity to philosophical memoir reflections.
Some literary scholars suggest that the work is presented as a response to the Decembrist uprising. The social adversities of ten years ago long disturbed the soul of the Russian poet.
We bring to your attention the text of the poem by A.S. Pushkin's "Cloud":
The last cloud of the scattered storm!
Alone you rush across the clear azure.
You alone cast a dull shadow,
You alone sadden the jubilant day.
You recently hugged the sky,
And lightning wrapped around you menacingly;
And you made mysterious thunder
And she watered the greedy land with rain.
Enough, hide! The time has passed
The earth was refreshed and the storm passed,
And the wind, caressing the leaves of the trees,
He's driving you out of the calm heavens.
Chapter 10. THE LAST CLOUD OF THE DISPERSED STORM
We must make ends meet.
Prince P. A. Vyazemsky
With a postal trip to the Tambov province in 1838, the American opened the final stage of his life. The long period of his relative seclusion, caused by Sarah’s illness and his own illness, was a thing of the past. Count Fyodor Ivanovich Tolstoy, “an old man with gray hair like a harrier,” turned back into a human for several years action, public and not always unambiguous.
Returning from exile, retired lieutenant colonel and avid gambler A. A. Alyabyev decided to get married. His chosen one was Ekaterina Aleksandrovna Ofrosimova, a thirty-seven-year-old widow. The composer's wedding took place on August 20, 1840 in the village of Ryazantsy, Bogorodsky district, in the local Church of the Holy Trinity. The corresponding entry has been preserved in the church register, thanks to which we now know that the guarantors on the part of the groom were cornet N. I. Jochimsen and ... “Colonel Count Fyodor Ivanovich Tolstoy.” It was no accident that the American ended up in the rural church: he had long been acquainted with the author of the famous “Nightingale.” In addition, our hero was, as they say, a “debtor” of Alyabyev: after all, Alexander Alexandrovich, who was walking down the aisle, once composed a soulful romance “Rose” based on the poems of Countess Sarah Tolstoy.
After the death of his daughter, the count generally began to frequent churches. Grieving, he came even closer “to the conviction of Christianity.” At the same time, he, like many gifted people, sought the Divine primarily with his mind, intellectual effort - and verified spontaneous religious impulses with philosophical skepticism, wisdom.
Characteristic confirmation of this is available, in particular, in the diary of V. A. Zhukovsky for 1841. So, on January 30, the poet, who was in Moscow, wrote: “I’ve had Tolstoy almost all morning<…>. Tolstoy’s wonderful words: I understand how you can love your enemies, but I don’t understand how you can love God.” And on February 23, after a visit to the American, V. A. Zhukovsky recorded the following tirade from the inquisitive owner: “His explanation of the Fall: Adam had already fallen before the fall. The sight of the cows enticed him."
Our hero’s churching did not escape his contemporaries. The fact that Tolstoy the American turned into a “Christian” in his old age was written, in particular, by A. A. Stakhovich.
Memoirist M. F. Kamenskaya insisted: “Fyodor Ivanovich became not only a pious man, but simply a hypocrite.”
And Leo Tolstoy, in conversations with his loved ones, even claimed that his uncle “in his old age he prayed so much that he skinned his knees and arms.”
He lived mainly in the village, in Glebov, which did not bother him, but he regularly visited the ancient capital and stayed in the city for a long time. (The count then lived in the Basmanny district, not far from the Church of the Three Saints, in his own house.)
In Moscow, the retired colonel visited not only his relatives, theaters and the English Club, but also the home of the semi-disgraced P. Ya. Chaadaev on Staraya Basmannaya. The Count highly valued the company of S. A. Sobolevsky, P. V. Nashchokin, A. P. Elagina, F. N. Glinka and M. S. Shchepkin; communicated with “representatives of Slavic theories,” that is, with Slavophiles; more than once spoke in various audiences from the position of a zealous apologist for the “Russian party.” It was from these positions that our hero, in a message dated August 23, 1844, gently reproached his friend, Prince P. A. Vyazemsky, for epistolary tactlessness: “You convicted the Russian people of their imperfections and shortcomings: it hurt me.”
In public, he spoke as of old, intelligently, boldly and brightly - and often got carried away in a youthful way, expressing controversial and even extreme opinions. For example, S. T. Aksakov recalled: “I myself heard the famous American Count Tolstoy say at a crowded meeting in the house of the Perfilyevs, who were ardent admirers of Gogol, that he was “an enemy of Russia and that he should be sent in chains to Siberia.” .
A witness to another speech by the American (partly supported by F.I. Tyutchev) against the author of “Dead Souls” was Alexandra Osipovna Smirnova-Rosset. On November 3, 1844, she notified the writer: “Rostopchina, under Vyazemsky, Samarin and Tolstoy, talked about the spirit in which your “Dead Souls” were written, and Tolstoy made the remark that you presented all Russians in a disgusting form, while you gave all Little Russians something inspiring participation, despite their funny sides; that even the funny sides have something naively pleasant; that you don’t have a single Ukrainian as vile as Nozdryov; that Korobochka is not disgusting precisely because she is crested. He, Tolstoy, even sees unintentionally unbrotherhood in the fact that when two men are talking and you say: “two Russian men”; Tolstoy and after him Tyutchev, very clever man, also noticed that a Muscovite would no longer say “two Russian men.” Both said that your whole Khokhlatsky soul poured out into “Taras Bulba,” where you presented Taras, Andriy and Ostap with such love.”
In the American's philippics there was, apparently, also a deeply hidden, “visceral” hostility of the aristocrat towards the arty, unkempt and arrogant paper scribbler. It seems that it turned out that Nikolai Yanovsky-Gogol, who came from nowhere and became fashionable, became for Count Tolstoy one of the animated symbols of the cloudy times that had come - the age of triumphant rudeness, giggling at the saint and books from the market; century, which could not be compared with the noble and clear era of Tolstoy’s youth. Having heard the only Gogol laugh at Russianness, The American was deeply indignant living soul, - and anger blinded Tolstoy. The usually insightful count ignored the Ukrainian's hint about “invisible, unknown to the world tears,” and even his “brisk, irresistible troika.”
(Just in case, let’s say that Count Fyodor Ivanovich was far from the only detractor of “Dead Souls” and other works of N.V. Gogol. In those years, N.I. Nadezhdin and others raised their voices against the Little Russian in those years, resorting to various arguments authoritative persons.)
The patriotic sentiments of our hero, however, did not prevent him from relentlessly - and especially in correspondence - branding domestic vices and carelessness.
By the forties, many of Fyodor Ivanovich Tolstoy’s friends had left the earthly vale. Wine and cards then also almost disappeared from his life. Nevertheless, the last pages of the biography of the retired colonel - the fourth age of man, the time to make ends meet - were, it seems to us, as meaningful and dynamic as the initial ones.
According to F.V. Bulgarin, in 1840 the count and his family spent a long time in St. Petersburg. This memoir evidence has not yet been confirmed by other sources.
But it is known for certain that in the forties the count worked hard on his memoirs, where he described his life and the events of which he happened to be a witness and participant.
"In the American<…>important human movement; it seems that he has resurrected or is resurrecting,” wrote V. A. Zhukovsky in his diary on January 20, 1841. And the very next day the poet was going to “sincerely criticize” his friend for something.
In the fall of 1838, having returned from an inspection trip to the Tambov province, Count Fyodor Ivanovich began to think about publishing Sarranka’s works and, for this purpose, began to sort through his daughter’s papers.
Taking advantage of the recommendations of his acquaintances, he invited the young teacher of the Moscow Agricultural School, Mikhail Nikolaevich Likhonin, to become his assistant. In the capital's literary circles, he was known as a poet and translator; his verses, critical articles and translations were published from time to time in the Moscow Telegraph, Son of the Fatherland, Moskovsky Vestnik and other periodicals. Lichonin's talents were especially appreciated by the editorial staff of the Moscow Observer; for this Slavophile magazine, Mikhail Nikolaevich regularly translated, by his own admission, “all the articles from English and some from German.”
It was just such an assistant, fluent in languages and not alien to poetry, that the American who signed up for publishing needed.
Count Fyodor Ivanovich strictly insisted that the German and English poems of Countess Sarah Tolstoy be translated into Russian not somehow, but literally, that is, word for word, with all “poetic liberties” preserved, - and M. N. Likhonin, having discussed for the sake of decency, conceded to the poetess’s father.
The competitors, who had reached mutual understanding, acted quite quickly and harmoniously, and already in the spring of 1839, shortly after Easter, they completed the painstaking work of preparing the publication.
Researching the archives of his late daughter was a gratifying and sad activity for the American at the same time. The past, page after page, passed before him - and there, in the poeticized past, his sweet black-browed Sarah was as if alive. Her feelings and thoughts, previously hidden, were now revealed and became the feelings and thoughts of Count Fyodor Ivanovich himself. Imbued with them, our hero, not at all ashamed of the employee, sobbed - and immediately, not having time to crumple and put away the wet handkerchief, he was touched and glowed with happiness.
A quiet conversation with Sarranka sometimes led to “discoveries” at bottom." One can imagine how the American’s heart began to beat when, among the countess’s other works, a poem in English language, dedicated to him, Count Fyodor Tolstoy:
You have cried often, my parent, and grief has made your hair white.
Often deep suffering tormented your chest;
Your noble heart often broke.
I myself, your dear, dearly beloved child, cost you many tears,
I inflicted many wounds on your heart, I, who are dearer to you,
than the blood circulating in your heart...
It was very much like an appeal from the other world - had the time really come and his native voice was calling him there?
The American carefully distributed Sarah's poems and prose experiments into two volumes (or parts). The first contained translations of her daughter’s completed works, and the other contained her unfinished poetry and prose, letters and rough sketches. In fact, it was prepared for transfer to the printing house complete collected works of the countess.
M. N. Likhonin wrote a small “Translator’s Preface” for the two-volume work, where he subjected the work of Sarah Fedorovna Tolstoy to a thorough, very professional analysis. His criticism concluded with this paragraph:
“But, to justify the shortcomings we noticed in the works of our writer, let us remember that she was Russian, but wrote in foreign languages, which she learned more from books than from the very life and way of life of those peoples, with the sounds of which she expressed her impressions and feelings, cherished in her dear homeland... Moreover, still so young, it never occurred to her that the poetic flowers of her soul would be fragrant over her untimely grave!
Censorship permission to print volumes of “Works” was given by Moscow censor I. M. Snegirev on May 26 and June 6, 1839. On the titles of both parts of the book, the publisher placed poems by V. A. Zhukovsky, addressed to him, the father of the deceased poetess. The first volume opened with the “Biography of Sarah,” which, in all likelihood, was also compiled by Count Fyodor Tolstoy. At the end of the poignant biography, the author noted: “May 17, 1839.” We believe that this is just the date of completion of work on the essay, nothing more.
The American was then fifty-eight years old.
"Works in poetry and prose gr<афини>S. F. Tolstoy" were quickly and elegantly printed in the Moscow printing house of S. Selivanovsky. The first volume was generally greeted favorably by the spoiled metropolitan public. Reader interest was also fueled by extraliterary factors: tragic fate the author of the book and, of course, the fact that the father of the unfortunate dreamer was all right a famous person- immoral "night robber".
The second volume, printed in a very meager circulation, went only to “a select circle of relatives and friends of the city.”<афа>F. I. Tolstoy ".
And then the unexpected happened: people who had acquired the first part of the “Works” and wanted to get acquainted with the unfinished works of the young poetess began to contact the American. This is what, say, Alexander Fomich Veltman (1800–1870), assistant director of the Armory Chamber and already a very famous writer (author of “The Wanderer,” “Koshchei the Immortal” and other novels) did. Count Fyodor Ivanovich, “shedding sweet tears,” responded to his complimentary letter on November 6, 1839:
“Although the 2nd volume of my daughter’s works was published solely for me - truly for me alone and, perhaps, for several people in my immediate family who loved her dearly, but your review, so flattering, eloquently expresses the expressions and feelings expressed to me in the letter yours regarding the melancholy dreams of my Sarah: he gives me the right, - he allows, he orders me to report this 2nd volume. There is nothing remarkable about it in terms of literature. There is nothing complete, nothing finished. This entire volume in fragments is like an emblem of her short-lived life, imperfect, incomplete. Death illuminated this work with its dull torch.
But here and there, in an incomplete sentence, you will meet a thought full of deep melancholy, you will meet the sigh of a lamenting soul - it<…>giving in your poetic soul. In a word: forgive the blindness of the unfortunate father - there is no parental pride here, however; I was passionate about my daughter, but, it seems, without being blinded.
It seems to me that I will give you pleasure by reporting this 2nd volume. If I were mistaken in this, then accept it as a sign of my special cordial respect for you - accept it as a challenge to a personal acquaintance, which dear sir, your humble servant F. I. Tolstoy ardently desires.”
Later, the American made acquaintance with A.F. Veltman, who endeared him to him - and communicated with the writer in the forties.
The two-volume work published by Count Fyodor Ivanovich received high literary assessment of the staff of the St. Petersburg “Notes of the Fatherland”. I. I. Panaev recalled that “the whole circle was then delighted” with the unique works of Sarah Tolstoy. V.G. Belinsky himself called the countess “especially remarkable” among women writers and thought about writing a review of the Moscow publication, but never realized this intention. But in 1840, the magazine published (in issue 10) a lengthy article by M. N. Katkov, “Works in poetry and prose of Countess S. F. Tolstoy.” Here the author of the essay, reflecting (among other things) on the masculine and feminine principles of the vain world, came to the conclusion that the poems of the untimely departed girl should be taken as a model (!) purely feminine poetic creativity, the defining essence of which is the free outpouring of the soul.
For an American who was haunted by “sadness for Sarah,” it was pleasant to read something like this. He did not save his daughter, but did everything in his power to immortalize at least her Name.
Longing for Sarah, Fyodor Ivanovich at some point reached out to the one with whom his daughter had once become close in spirit - her village friend Anna Volchkova, who lived next door. “Under the influence of grief,” recalled P.F. Perfilyeva, “he saw in her the second Rimma (that is, Sarah. - M.F.) and fell in love with her so much that I almost forgot about my existence. He showered Tonya (that is, Aneta. - M.F.) caresses, money; I even wanted to give her the estate, and I don’t know how I resisted this injustice. It seems to me that the Countess prevented this..."
Yes, the Countess, beloved and hated Dunyasha, stood in our hero’s way day and night...
The death of Sarah only pacified the couple for a short time. Then, after the mourning period, the clashes between the American and his wife resumed. And the elevation of the stranger Aneta to favorites, of course, added fuel to the fire.
And soon a new reason was found, and Count Fyodor Ivanovich and Countess Avdotya Maksimovna quarreled for the thousandth time - and in a way they had never quarreled before.
The head of the family was unable to get along with Avdotya Maksimovna or bring his wife to reason. No matter what measures Count Fyodor Tolstoy resorted to, the gypsy “given to hypocrisy” lived according to her own understanding. “Her morning was spent visiting senior clergy, and she treated ordinary monks condescendingly and did not make acquaintance with them,” wrote P. F. Perfilyeva, “the rest of the day was spent traveling to stores, where rare and expensive things were bought, completely unnecessary."
At the same time, the countess’s things were always rated much higher than people and household servants.
Avdotya Maksimovna’s mockery of boors led to a scandal never seen before.
P. F. Perfilyeva reported about him in the chronicle “Several chapters from the life of Countess Inna.” There is reason to think that the American’s daughter, without hesitation, spoke here about the incidents that actually shook Tolstoy’s house. And for greater persuasiveness, she placed in the chronicle (in the chapter “My Father and Mother”) genuine (or, rather, close to genuine) letters from her parents.
It is known that Leo Tolstoy, after reading the autobiographical manuscript of Praskovya Fedorovna, “did not sleep all night.” The chronicler herself was afraid to print “a difficult thing.” The truth about the American's family life was, needless to say, too depressing.
One day it was discovered that the countess systematically beats the courtyard girls with a “whip”. Count Kamsky was informed about this, as well as the fact that Inna, who tried to stand up for the serfs, sometimes fell under her mother’s hot hand. Kamsky also ended up with the notorious “whip”. And then, according to Inna, the following happened:
“He, furious, grabbed a whip and a knife, which always lay on his table, and went out; I stood there in a kind of stupor for a minute, but when I heard a scream, I ran after him... I felt scared! The mother stood in the doorway of her bedroom, leaning completely backwards, and defended herself from the knife. I rushed between them, pushed the Countess, who fell to the floor, and the knife hit me in the left side and wounded me. My father, seeing me, came to his senses, sat me down on a chair and went to his room. I held my side and was in some kind of fog, not understanding anything. They lifted my mother and carried her to bed, and Anna, our demoiselle de compagnie, whom I loved like a sister, took me to the office where my father sat, covering his face with his hands, and wept bitterly. When I saw him, I involuntarily cried out: “Lord, when will the end happen!”, and with this word I completely lost consciousness. You will understand what was happening in the house at this time. In the hall people sat as if dead; the girls were fussing, running from one patient to another..."
After this shameful story, the angry countess intended to leave “to where he took me from,” but in the end she moved from the house to the outbuilding: “She lived there for a month and during that time corresponded with me and my father, but did not want to see me.” Then Kamskaya Sr. returned to the house, allocated separate chambers for herself and began to live as a hermit. Her correspondence with the Count continued; Here is one of the countess’s epistles - with a very unambiguous hint:
“This is the last time I’m writing to you and I don’t dare call you husband and friend. You can't see me. God is with you; I'll see you in the next world. It’s been three years since I’ve been separated from you: it wasn’t my body that loved you, but my soul, divine and idolizing you. I was wondering if you had anything new.
Kamskaya".
From his corner, Count Kamsky sent reply messages to the recluse. Here's an example:
“Your last letter convinces me of my intention to never see you again. It proves to me that you absolutely do not understand me and cannot understand me. Besides, there are nasty things in this letter that make me, an old man, blush, and I threw your letter into the fire. Your hellish temper separated us from you; Maybe it’s my own fault, but for that I suffered a strong punishment and therefore I don’t blame you, but I don’t have the strength to live with you. The unfortunate in hard labor have hours of rest, but I, for about a year now, have not had a single minute of sweet peace. If I have not died to this day, then this must be attributed to my extraordinary health, and perhaps God still wants to leave me for a while for my unfortunate daughter.
Don’t bother praying for me, pray for yourself, but pray with a contrite and tender heart and a humble soul. Then only prayers are pleasing to God. To pray and harbor malice in your heart, even if it is towards your servant, is a great insult eternal love. The Savior on the cross prayed for the evildoers.
With all my heart I wish you peace.
Count Kamsky".
“There is no way for us to be together,” the count assured his wife in another letter. However, Kamsky did not go further than declarations: he also did not have the opportunity to part with the countess. And after some time the Kamsky-Tolstoys made peace again. None of them ever threw out a white flag. The boundary between the two halves of the house, the two warriors, disappeared again. "They have gone O everything is the same, for me too, that is, it’s very bad,” P. F. Perfilyeva summed up her story about the drama. (She wrote to Leo Tolstoy in January 1864: “Having read Countess Inna, I thought that you wouldn’t be surprised that my nerves and health are bad, and my head works somehow painfully.”)
And to Prince P. A. Vyazemsky the American repeated in almost every letter of the forties plural: “My people bow to you greatly”; “Thank you for your friendly accuracy.” Or: “Wife and Fields<…>They bow heartily and thank you for your memory of them.”
There is not a single hint or mention of hopeless family everyday life, of all sorts of “whips” and “knives” in our hero’s correspondence.
Having lost sight of each other after the Battle of Borodino and a memorable bottle of Madeira, I.P. Liprandi and Count F.I. Tolstoy again - after more than three decades! - got together in the spring of 1844.
“Having been back in Moscow and visiting A.F. Veltman,” Ivan Petrovich said about the unexpected meeting, “I met an unfamiliar old man with him, completely gray and thick hair. Although his face did not seem alien to me, I was far from thinking of guessing who he was. The conversation was general. Finally, the respectable owner recommended us one to another. Almost in one voice we asked each other: aren’t you, aren’t you? and then it followed what happens in such a case.<…>The count remarked to me that he still had the prince’s penzer, and that seeing it often had become a habit for him. The next day he made me promise to dine with him; he also invited the venerable veteran of our era, F.N. Glinka. The next day, Veltman and I stopped by Fyodor Nikolaevich on the way and went together to the count. I found him the same: he was pouring soup for everyone. Our conversation consisted of memories of the prince, of his death...”
The gray-haired soldiers had the chance to meet and resurrect the past and gossip about the noseless one over Tolstoy’s never-cooling soup, in the house where their common shrine was kept - Dolrukov’s military frock coat with characteristic brown spots. Fate itself, the sophisticated writer of the novel of life and the organizer of its composition, probably decided to pamper the retired colonel, who was finishing his life, with this meeting, bright and sad, and in many ways final.
When the touching gathering of disabled people in a symbolic setting took place, another life story came to an end - and, as a consequence, that purely earthly that kept here American, has noticeably decreased.
“I’m getting old, sick, stupid and intolerable to myself,” admitted Count Fyodor Ivanovich Tolstoy. This, however, did not prevent the American from performing a number of brave feats at that time and even finding himself “under criminal trial.” Moreover, the authorities may never have brought the trial in the case of the retired colonel to any formal conclusion.
Let's start with the rather ordinary “Tolstyan savagery.”
In June 1844, the count went with his family to the then fashionable Revel waters. There the Tolstoys were accompanied by Countess E.P. Rostopchina and the Vyazemsky couple. Vera Fedorovna and Pyotr Andreevich left the resort before the count, in early August, and, as the American later put it, “they took with them all the joy of Revel life.” Count Fyodor Ivanovich, having seen off his friends, began to avoid the company of vacationers, avoided the “Zalon” (local club), and plunged “into some kind of sad stupor,” with which, in addition, “longing for the homeland was intertwined.”
The only way Fyodor Tolstoy entertained himself was that he once punched the “Prussian bartender Andersen” who didn’t please him. In a letter to Prince P. A. Vyazemsky dated August 23, 1844, our hero reported on the execution of the infidel he carried out in exquisite terms:
“I was so disgusted with the lounge that the buffet itself lost its attractiveness; although the barman's unshaven upper lip had its own charm. An observer can to this day see on that deeply wounded lip the imprint of the patriarchal spirit of the Russian man.”
The American's prank had no consequences for him, which cannot be said about another episode with his equally active participation.
That other story began long before the “bartender’s lip” and continued after the Revel incident - in a word, it lasted for years.
The first stage of Tolstoy’s criminal case coincided with the arrival of V. A. Zhukovsky in Moscow, who on February 10, 1841 recorded in his diary: “I have Count Tolstoy in the morning. His new story. Probably got caught again. No matter how the hand of Providence executes, you cannot change everything in nature. Just look, it will return to the old ways.”
The biographer now has three versions of what happened - these are the stories of A. I. Herzen in “The Past and Thoughts” (part two, chapter XIV), the actor A. A. Stakhovich in “Shreds of Memories” and Count Fyodor Ivanovich himself.
According to Iskander, who personally knew Fyodor Tolstoy, the “trick” of the American, which “almost brought him to Siberia again,” was as follows: “He had been angry with some tradesman for a long time, he somehow caught him in his house, tied him hand and foot and pulled out his tooth. The tradesman submitted a request.”
A. A. Stakhovich tried to clarify some details of the outlandish incident: “After the death of his passionately beloved daughter, an intelligent, educated girl full of talents, T<олстой>In her memory, he began to build a hospital, or almshouse, for peasants on his estate. The contractor built it very poorly. The volcano raged, the American dealt with the rogue contractor in his own way, he ordered all his teeth to be pulled out...”
Let us note that the servant of Melpomene did not (unlike A.I. Herzen) make an immaculate lamb out of the victim. It is also worth emphasizing: it would be nice if the tradesman deceived the count in small things - no, he desecrated the memory of Countess Sarah Tolstoy. In the understanding of her parent, more felony It simply couldn't be.
From the note submitted by F.I. Tolstoy in May 1845 to the head of the III Department, Count A.F. Orlov (it is known to us in a copy), it becomes clear that the mentioned Moscow tradesman was called Pyotr Ivanovich Ignatiev. According to our hero, this guy should have been publicly punished in the city square. The American wisely remained silent in the document about the punishment he, Tolstoy, willfully (acting on the principle: “the state is me”) replaced the legal trade punishment. I would still like to hope that the frantic count was satisfied with the removal one bourgeois tooth.
Shcherbatyy Ignatiev answered as best he could: he submitted a petition to the highest name, in which he accused “the retired Colonel Count Tolstoy of torture, mutilation, non-payment of his salary, even the robbery of his property, belongings and money.”
And on February 3, 1841, an order was sent from St. Petersburg to Moscow to “carry out the strictest investigation.”
In a note addressed to A.F. Orlov, the American gave a unique assessment of the decision made in the Northern capital: “The Emperor, carried away by the feeling of His well-known strict justice, placed Colonel Count Tolstoy on the level of Colonel Count Tolstoy, who once served with honor to the Tsar and the Fatherland, shed blood for them his blood, with a tradesman who, due to his business, should have shed his blood long ago on the market square.”
The order of Emperor Nikolai Pavlovich was delivered to the Mother See, the American was familiarized with the formidable paper, and he, in turn, told V. A. Zhukovsky, who was close to the Court, about the impending disaster. Their conversation took place, as can be seen from the poet’s diary entry above, on the morning of February 10, 1841. Obviously, Fyodor Ivanovich, who was in “anxiety,” turned to him with a request for intercession, and the kind Vasily Andreevich, having scolded his old friend to his heart’s content for yet another assault, promised to provide the count with all possible assistance.
Having promised, V.A. Zhukovsky immediately fulfilled his promise. Three days later, on February 13, he paid a visit to the Moscow civil governor Ivan Grigorievich Senyavin and discussed Tolstoy’s conflicts with him in his own way. The governor did not hold a grudge against Count Fyodor Ivanovich and “gave good hope” to the poet. He, inspired, hurried “with good news” to Tolstoy and from the threshold made the old naughty man happy. “A successful day,” noted V. A. Zhukovsky in his diary.
“Tolstoy punished the police, punished the court, and the tradesman was sent to prison for false reporting.” Thus, in one phrase, A. I. Herzen characterized the next stage of Tolstoy’s case. In some ways, Iskander was remotely right: indeed, the American, as we now know, enlisted the support of influential persons. However, the author of Past and Thoughts very significantly distorted the course of the investigation.
It turns out that Pyotr Ignatiev was sent “to prison” not in 1841 and not at all for “reporting” on Count Fyodor Tolstoy, as A. I. Herzen assured readers. Both in terms of timing and in terms of the procedure, everything was different.
In 1841, the tradesman “evaded investigation”; Simply put, he sensed evil and went on the run. In the absence of the plaintiff, the proceedings to which Russian Emperor gave a “legitimate direction”, stopped. And the American, already ready (with the support of strong intercessors) to justify himself, found himself in an ambivalent position: the charges brought against him were neither proven nor refuted.
For about four years there was not a word or breath about the offended mess. “During this time and without leaving his trade,” Count F.I. Tolstoy reported to A.F. Orlov in May 1845, “Ignatiev defrauded some landowner of the Tver province, from where he was transferred to the Moscow prison. Ignatiev's imprisonment finally made it possible to begin an investigation. It took an active step: written responses were taken from Count Tolstoy; he only demanded a confrontation that would fully prove the falsity of the denunciation.”
This is where Nikolai Filippovich Pavlov (1803–1864), a man of dubious origin, but an authorized official and a well-known writer, intervened in the investigation.
Since 1842, he served in the office of the Moscow Governor-General and carried out “supervision over the progress of prisoner affairs.” Periodically touring the capital's overcrowded prisons, collegiate secretary N.F. Pavlov, as stated in a reputable encyclopedia, “worked for the release of innocent victims.” Nikolai Filippovich also became concerned about the fate of Pyotr Ignatiev, began to patronize oppressed innocence, and then shared his thoughts with A.I. Herzen.
In “The Past and Thoughts,” the official’s oral history was transformed into the following text:
“At this time, one Russian writer, N. F. Pavlov, served on the prison committee. The tradesman told him the matter, the inexperienced official raised it. Tolstoy got scared in earnest: the matter was clearly heading towards his condemnation. But the Russian God is great! Count Orlov wrote a secret message to Prince Shcherbatov, in which he advised him to put the matter out so as not to let such a thing happen. direct triumph of the lower class over the higher. Count Orlov advised N.F. Pavlov to be removed from such a place... This is almost more incredible than a pulled out tooth. I was then in Moscow and knew the careless official very well.”
A. A. Stakhovich’s version is shorter at this point; at the same time, it coincides almost word for word with Iskander’s: “Count Zakrevsky put this matter out.”
And here the democratic whistleblowers of the American and the highest administration of the empire did not tell the public, to put it mildly, the whole truth.
They, in particular, hid from readers that “a philanthropist and aristocrat of the 12th class” (as our hero N.F. Pavlov described) in the spring of 1845 did not limit himself to studying the case of a tradesman: he insisted on the release of Pyotr Ignatiev. And the tradesman, having left the prison, did his usual thing - “he immediately ran away.”
The police, if they began to look for the fugitive, did so very lazily, more for appearances.
“The investigation has stopped again, and Count Tolstoy is weighed down by the burden of it, not foreseeing its end; his family is grieving, his freedom is constrained; “he cannot even leave Moscow, which would be necessary for his seriously ill daughter,” the American wrote to Count A.F. Orlov. - Is this really an indispensable fruit of that justice, which is so dear to the heart of our truthful King! But Tolstoy does not complain, he only asks the authorities to pay attention to such a blatant matter, reverently before the will and good intentions of the Sovereign.”
(As in the case of 1829 with second lieutenant Ermolaev, our hero allowed himself veiled criticism, seasoned with subtle irony, of those whom it is not right to criticize.)
Unfortunately, A. I. Herzen, and after him A. A. Stakhovich, kept silent not only about the repeated flight of the nimble tradesman, but at the same time about the fact that Tolstoy’s case had an interesting continuation that radically changed the situation.
The above-cited note addressed to A.F. Orlov was written by the American on May 22, 1845. The events of the next day forced Count Fyodor Ivanovich to make a very significant addition to the document. It can be assumed that our hero added to the note on the twentieth of the same month.
This addition is one of the peaks of the epistolary creativity of Fyodor Ivanovich Tolstoy:
“This note was drawn up on May 22 and now accepts some changes. Not as a reproach to the Moscow police, who completely declared the impossibility of finding the escaped tradesman Ignatiev, Count Tolstoy himself, on May 23rd, in broad daylight, caught him in the Moscow streets and took him into custody in a booth, from where he was taken to the Moscow Chief of Police.
Count Tolstoy most humbly asks the Higher Authorities, as a great mercy, to put a limit to the tender philanthropy of G<осподина>Number<лежского>Secretary Pavlov, ordering the Moscow authorities to keep the tradesman Ignatiev, perhaps connected by ties of blood relationship or cordial friendship with the aforementioned Pavlov, under strict guard in order to end the almost five-year investigation and thereby ease the fate of Count Tolstoy and, moreover, fulfill the will of the Sovereign Emperor.” .
We believe that the highest ranks of the secret police could not restrain themselves and burst out laughing when reading such lines.
Laughter is laughter, but how and when the police and other dignitaries managed to “put out the work” of the American, begun by order of the Tsar, is still not clear.
Soon after sending the note to A.F. Orlov, on June 23, 1845, our hero informed Prince P.A. Vyazemsky: “I received a letter from G.<осподи>to Dubelt, on behalf of Count Orlov: it is very satisfactory for me<но>, and I considered it necessary to inform you about this. Dubelt’s kindness is absolutely remarkable; on occasion, express to him my most sensitive gratitude - of which, of course, a good half belongs to you.” (Apparently, the aforementioned Tolstoy note was delivered to Section 111 through the mediation of the omnipresent Prince Pyotr Andreevich.)
However, even twelve months later, in a letter dated June 19, 1846, Count Fyodor Ivanovich blamed a friend who called him again to Revel: “You forgot that my freedom is constrained, I’m on criminal trial...”
It was already the sixth year since Count Fyodor Tolstoy showed the tradesman where the crayfish spend the winter...
In general, only A. I. Herzen and A. A. Stakhovich did it smoothly and sharply. Sources recreate a different, more objective picture: six months before the death of the American, his case, despite behind-the-scenes maneuvers and the “ardent intercession” of the partisans, had not yet been closed and, accordingly, in the middle of 1846 there was no imminent triumph of the aristocratic party over the “lower class” was foreseen.
"It's time for a hot life<…>irrevocably passed”, the decisive “change<…>hanging on the nose."
This, judging by the letters, was the prevailing mood of Count Fyodor Ivanovich in 1845–1846. The capture of the scoundrel Peter Ignatiev - obviously last thing a large-scale act of the American, his swan song.
It's no joke: he was filled with an elusive mixture at the age of sixty-three.
In the summer of the same 1845, Polinka Tolstoy’s album finally returned to our valiant hero from P. A. Vyazemsky. In the girl's magazine, the prince wrote not a traditional madrigal, but a long philosophical poem. “The daughter was delighted with the Album and delighted with your<ми>in verse,” Count Fyodor Ivanovich responded to the author on September 5, 1845.
Count Tolstoy, of course, was delighted with the prince’s album play - and immediately began to think:
Our life is a story or a novel;
It is written by blind fate
According to the feuilleton cut,
And there is no plan, and is there a plan,
Don't ask... The lesson is assigned,
We must make ends meet,
And read the novel to the end,
Be it good or bad.
Another novel, another true story,
Such a mess, such a gild,
That you can't find the meaning in it.
All P O it went crookedly, without a soul -
Pages, days, empty numbers,
And in the end write zero...
The American could well accept - and, rightly so, accepted - much in his friend’s masterful rhymes. personal account, but not verse
All P O it went crookedly, without a soul...
No, he lived his “uncomfortable” life and lived it out with taste, much more directly and sincerely, in a word - without emptiness and not at all O went. And to leave with nothing a world where, as we gradually learned, there is the Fatherland and its enemies, heaven and hell, the equator, the English Club and the Kamchadals, crazy children and smart monkeys, cards, pistols and wines invented by the greatest geniuses; where love turns into hate, a bucket into a storm, a fact into a fable and vice versa; where people fly high and fall low, in any latitude they devour their own kind, and at best there were and will be roses and thorns equally - he clearly didn’t want to.
The portrait of Count Fyodor Ivanovich Tolstoy, executed in those months by the artist Karl Yakovlevich Reichel (who, by the way, also painted Prince P. A. Vyazemsky), later became the most famous, “canonical” image of the American.
This is a portrait of an old, tired and sick, but by no means apathetic person who has lost interest in life.
Count Tolstoy is depicted on the canvas in almost the same pose as in the 1803 portrait by an unknown artist. (Then, as we remember, the young Preobrazhensky officer had just entered life, received his first ranks and fines, and was preparing for a trip around the world.)
His left hand (with a miniature ring on his little finger) is also placed on the back of the chair, his frock coat is just as elegant and Tolstoy’s gray coat is just as well-groomed. The count’s eyes, which have not yet faded, are wide, as of old, open and inexplicably attractive. It may seem to some that the source of light illuminating Tolstoy’s high forehead and his face, emaciated and intelligent, are precisely these eyes, which at the same time drill into the viewer who stops at the picture.
The pipe, held tightly in his right hand, and the dog frozen next to the chair give the observer some idea of our hero’s predilections.
Comparing portraits created by artists with an interval of forty-three years, one cannot help but notice the differences between them. Two differences between Reichel’s creation and the image of Count Fyodor Tolstoy in his youth are especially significant and eloquent.
First of all, in the painting of 1846 the scenery has been changed: here the background of the painting is twilight and smooth, calm, without the former fiery glare - hints of future storms.
A metamorphosis also occurred with the count's tie: at the beginning of the century it was white, and now, in 1846, it was replaced by a dark one.
So dark that from a distance it could easily be mistaken for black.
The portrait by K. Ya. Reichel is the penultimate page of the biography of Count F. I. Tolstoy. Having turned it over, our hero, without hesitation, moved towards the ending prepared for each...
A few months after the romantic meeting with the American, I.P. Liprandi came to Moscow again. And old friends came together again. “Same dates, same memories; he promised me in the summer, in the village, to show me his notes, which, as it turned out, were true to my story,” Ivan Petrovich said in his memoirs.
However, in the summer of 1845, the major general, burdened with the affairs of an important service, never reached the Mother See and the village of Glebov. Later I.P. Liprandi greatly regretted this.
In the fall of 1845, Count Fyodor Ivanovich experienced renewed attacks of an old illness, which quickly brought him “to extreme exhaustion.” In the winter, the retired colonel still managed to hold on somehow, sporadically swaggered around, even posed for the German artist, but by spring the illness still “knocked” him off his feet.
The American took to his bed and “almost never left his painful bed” for four whole months. “By the participation that you take in me,” the count wrote, having gathered the rest of his strength, to P. A. Vyazemsky on June 19, 1846, “hopefully, you will want to know about the nature of the disease: according to the assurance of my doctor (albeit a first-class one, but to whom I don’t believe it), my illness consists in rheumatic lesions of the digestive organ» .
For the summer, the Tolstoy family moved to the Moscow region, to the fresh forest air. However, there, in the village of Glebov, the American was getting worse and worse. His hands did not obey him, his work on the notes froze. Soon he stopped getting up, constantly lay on the balcony, looking, without looking away, into the distance. His wife and daughter did not leave his side around the clock.
“The Count was melting by leaps and bounds; his strength completely left him.”
At the end of the summer, the long-resisting family gave in to the doctors' insistence. Count Fyodor Ivanovich was transported, observing all possible precautions, to the capital. In the chronicle “Several Chapters from the Life of Countess Inna” the following is written about this time:
“The Count was brought to Moscow in the most pitiful situation. He could no longer sit, he spoke somehow abruptly, he was choking from coughing, he lost terribly weight and completely lost heart.<…>Anyone who saw his father a month ago no longer recognized him upon his arrival in Moscow. It was a skeleton in which life was maintained only by a feverish state. His eyes shone unnaturally, his half-open mouth, with dry lips, asked for something so indistinctly that it was absolutely impossible to understand. This proud head sank to his chest, not from heavy thoughts, but from suffering, and his majestic posture hunched over. Looking at him, I accustomed myself to the idea that he must die soon ... "
Only Tolstoy’s eyes did not give up yet...
Secretly from her mother, Polinka sent a letter from Tsarskoye Selo to Countess Praskovya Vasilyevna Tolstaya, and she was not slow in coming to her dying friend.
Now the three people closest to him were on duty at the American’s bedside.
The night hours usually fell to the lot of the count's daughter. "I<…>I watched him sleep, only he slept not in the kind of sleep that restores a person, but in the kind that takes away the last of his strength, dulling his senses and mind,” recalled Praskovya Fedorovna. - His chest rarely rose, and this movement was accompanied each time by a dull, painful groan. My God, I thought, how suffering has changed him; where is this vigor, moral and physical strength? And he succumbed to illness!”
If the count was not sleeping, then he prayed earnestly and silently. “Until the last minute he did not stop praying,” Avdotya Maksimovna Tolstaya reported to Prince P. A. Vyazemsky in a letter dated February 3, 1847 and added: “I have spiritual joy that he died such a Christian.”
In late autumn, the American decided to confess and take communion. In the memoirs of A. A. Stakhovich it is said on this matter: “I heard that the priest who confessed the dying man said that the confession lasted a very long time and rarely did he encounter such repentance and such deep faith in God’s mercy.”
Everything was done, the line was drawn.
The sixty-four-year-old retired Colonel Tolstoy did not survive until the end of the Filippov Fast and the great holiday.
On the night of Tuesday, December 24, Count Fyodor Ivanovich began to leave. “Around 10 in the morning,” the daughter wrote, “father began to wheeze and turn yellow; his eyes opened and had a kind of glassy appearance, and his hands turned blue.”
And an hour later the tattooed count, who had closed his eyelids, was carried to the table.
The paper of the Moscow Spiritual Consistory stated: Count Fyodor Ivanovich Tolstoy “died on December 24, 1846, his funeral service was held in the Church of the Three Saints at the Red Gate.”
Our hero was buried at Vagankovsky, as it should be, on the third day, after Christmas. “Anyone who has had the opportunity to bury people dear to him will understand that terrible feeling of loneliness, the emptiness of the heart that you experience when entering a house, having arrived from the cemetery; It’s as if you’re looking for someone, you can still hear it as if he’s calling you. But then everything will suddenly disappear, and when you come to your senses, you will understand your grief,” Polinka shared her memories.
Some people in those sad days visited the widow and daughter “with social participation,” but in general there was little talk about Tolstoy’s death in the city, and they talked about it in different ways.
But when the news of the death of the American reached V. A. Zhukovsky, he managed to find the appropriate words and wrote to A. Ya. Bulgakov:
“He had many good qualities, I personally knew only these good qualities; everything else was known only by legend; and my heart has always been for him; and he was always a good friend to his friends."
It’s a pity that Vasily Andreevich’s lines remained forever a fragment of a private, little-known letter that had no effect on anything.
This text is an introductory fragment.
Absent-minded and timid Absent-minded and timid Don't come here. On our mountain paths, watch your step. You probably fell asleep, fell asleep on the move. I touched the gap in the grass, I touched it for misfortune. Now he is bewitched, with downcast eyes, and cannot find the way along that path.
Chapter two. EVE OF THE STORM - So, Wolfgang, I believe we will begin in the same spirit as I wrote with Oscar... “I would like to express general thoughts about the principles underlying the description of atomic phenomena. I hope these considerations will help to bring into agreement the various, clearly
Chapter XIX. After the storm 1 It was winter in Paris... It smelled of baked chestnuts and smoldering coals in the braziers... A blind musician stood in front of the Café de La Paix and sang in a trembling voice a cheerful, boulevard song: Madeleine, fill the glasses And sing along with the soldiers. We won the war. Do you believe
Chapter XIX After the Storm 1 It was winter in Paris... It smelled of baked chestnuts and smoldering coals in the braziers... A blind musician stood in front of the Cafe de La Paix and sang in a trembling voice a cheerful, boulevard song: Madelon, fill the glasses And sing along with the soldiers. We won the war. Do you believe it?
Chapter V. The Beginning of the Storm Monday, April 16, 1945 In the middle of the night, we are awakened by a roar. We are under heavy fire. We grab things. I quickly put on my boots, take my overcoat and duffel bag and dive straight into the night. The earth trembles, the night is filled with lightning and roars. Heavy shells are flying at us, and every time
Chapter 73. Sources of the “Storm” We do not know the real sources of the “Storm”. However, Shakespeare probably had one or another literary basis for his drama, for the extremely old-fashioned and naive play of the German Jacob Ayrer, “The Comedy of the Beautiful Side,” is built on a plot
Chapter XIX. After the storm 1. It was winter in Paris... It smelled of baked chestnuts and smoldering coals in the braziers... A blind musician stood in front of the Cafe de La Paix and sang a cheerful, boulevard song in a trembling voice: Madeleine, fill the glasses And sing along with the soldiers. We won the war. Do you believe
So who will pay? [Cloud marked “secret”] Deputy request to the Deputy Chairman of the Council of Ministers of the USSR, Chairman of the Bureau for the Fuel and Energy Complex Boris Evdokimovich Shcherbina, Minister of Atomic Energy Nikolai Fedorovich Lukonin I’ll start with
