Brief summary of a Christmas tale. A Christmas Tale

This article does not have the opportunity to consider the entire “fairytale” legacy of M.E. Saltykov-Shchedrin. Therefore, only the most famous “fairy-tale” works by the author of the work “Lord Golovlyov” will be analyzed and retold.

The list is like this:

"The story of how one man fed two generals" (1869).
"The Wild Landowner" (1869).
"The Wise Minnow" (1883).

"The Tale of How One Man Fed Two Generals" (1869)

The plot is simple: two generals magically ended up on the island. At first they did nothing, but then they got hungry, and need drove them on reconnaissance. The generals discovered that the island was rich in all sorts of gifts: vegetables, fruits, animals. But, since they spent their entire lives working in offices and didn’t know anything other than “please register,” they don’t care whether these gifts exist or not. Suddenly one of the generals suggested: there must be a guy lying under a tree doing nothing somewhere on the island. Their general task is to find him and make him work. No sooner said than done. And so it happened. The generals harnessed the man, like a horse, to work, and he hunted for them, picked fruits from the trees for them. Then the generals got tired and forced the man to build them a boat and drag them back to So the man did, and received a “generous” reward for this, which he gratefully accepted and departed back to his island. This is the summary. Saltykov-Shchedrin wrote inspired fairy tales.

Everything is simple here. M.E. Saltykov-Shchedrin ridicules the lack of education of the Russian elite of that time. The generals in the fairy tale are impossibly stupid and helpless, but at the same time they are swaggering, arrogant and do not value people at all. The image of the “Russian peasant,” on the contrary, is depicted by Shchedrin with special love. The ordinary person of the 19th century, as depicted by the author, is resourceful, savvy, knows and can do everything, but at the same time is not at all proud of himself. In a word, the ideal of a person. This is a summary. Saltykov-Shchedrin created ideological, one might even say ideological, fairy tales.

"The Wild Landowner" (1869)

The first and second fairy tales discussed in this article have the same publication year. And this is not without reason, because they are also related by topic. The plot of this story is completely common for Shchedrin and therefore absurd: the landowner was tired of his men, he believed that they were spoiling his air and his land. The master literally went mad over property and kept praying to God to deliver him from the “smelly” man. The peasants, too, were not too happy to serve under such a strange landowner, and they prayed to God to deliver them from such a life. God took pity on the peasants and wiped them off the face of the landowners' land.

At first everything went well for the landowner, but then his supplies of food and water began to run out, and he became more and more wild every day. It is also curious that at first guests came to him and praised him when they learned how he famously got rid of that hated “man smell” in the air. One problem: all the food disappeared from the house along with the man. No, the man did not rob the master. It’s just that the Russian aristocrat himself, by his nature, is not fit for anything and can’t do anything.

The landowner became more and more wild, and the nearby area became increasingly desolate without the man. But then a school of men flew over it and landed their troops on this land. Products appeared again, life went as it should again.

By that time the landowner had gone into the forests. Even the forest animals condemned the landowner for expelling the peasant. So it goes. Everything ended well. The landowner was caught in the forests, cut his hair and even taught to use a handkerchief again, but he still missed his freedom. Life on the estate depressed him now. This is how you can end the summary. Saltykov-Shchedrin created fairy tales that were truthful and filled with moral meaning.

It practically coincides with the previous tale about two generals. The only thing that seems curious is the landowner’s longing for freedom, for the forests. Apparently, according to the author of the work, the landowners themselves unconsciously suffered from the loss of the meaning of life.

"The Wise Minnow" (1883)

Piskar tells his story. His parents lived long lives and died of natural causes (very rare among small fish). And all because they were very careful. The hero's father told him many times the story of how he almost got hit in the ear, and only a miracle saved him. Under the influence of these stories, our minnow digs a hole for itself somewhere and hides there all the time, hoping “no matter what happens.” It is chosen only at night, when it is least likely to be eaten. That's how he lives. Until he becomes old and dies, most likely of his own accord. This is a summary.

Saltykov-Shchedrin: fairy tales. Ideological content

The last fairy tale on our list is much richer in its ideological content than the previous two. This is no longer even a fairy tale, but a philosophical parable with existential content. True, it can be read not only existentially, but also psychoanalytically.

Psychoanalytic version. Piskar was scared to death by his father's miraculous rescue from the boiling cauldron. And this traumatic situation cast a shadow over his entire subsequent life. We can say that the minnow was not overcoming his own fear, and it was outlined by someone else’s, parental phobia.

Existential version. Let's start with the fact that the word “wise” is used by Shchedrin in the exact opposite sense. The minnow's entire life strategy teaches how not to live. He hid from life, did not follow his path and destiny, so he lived, although long, but without meaning.

General disadvantage of the school curriculum

When a writer becomes a classic, they immediately begin to study him in schools. It is integrated into the school curriculum. This means that fairy tales written by Saltykov-Shchedrin are also studied at school (short content is most often chosen by modern schoolchildren to read). And this in itself is not bad, but this approach simplifies the author and makes him the author of two or three works. In addition, it creates standard and stereotyped human thinking. And schemes usually do not encourage the development of the ability to think creatively. What should a school ideally teach?

How to avoid this? Very simple: after reading this article and familiarizing yourself with the topic “Saltykov-Shchedrin. Fairy tales. A brief summary of the plot and ideological content”, it is imperative to read as many of his works as possible, which are outside the school curriculum.

Mikhail Evgrafovich Saltykov-Shchedrin wrote: “...Literature, for example, can be called Russian salt: what will happen if salt ceases to be salty, if to the restrictions that do not depend on literature, it also adds voluntary self-restraint...”

This article is about Saltykov-Shchedrin’s fairy tale “The Horse”. In a brief summary we will try to understand what the author wanted to say.

about the author

Saltykov-Shchedrin M.E. (1826-1889) - an outstanding Russian writer. He was born and spent his childhood on a noble estate with many serfs. His father (Evgraf Vasilyevich Saltykov, 1776-1851) was a hereditary nobleman. Mom (Olga Mikhailovna Zabelina, 1801-1874) was also from a noble family. After receiving his primary education, Saltykov-Shchedrin entered the Tsarskoye Selo Lyceum. After graduation, he began his career as a secretary in the military office.

Throughout his life, moving up his career, he traveled a lot to the provinces and observed the desperately distressing situation of the peasantry. Having a pen as a weapon, the author shares with his reader what he sees, denouncing lawlessness, tyranny, cruelty, lies, and immorality. By exposing the truth, he wanted the reader to be able to see the simple truth behind the huge shaft of lies and myths. The writer hoped that the time would come when these phenomena would decrease and disappear, since he believed that the fate of the country was in the hands of the common people.

The author is outraged by the injustice happening in the world, the powerless, humiliated existence of serfs. In his works, he sometimes allegorically, sometimes directly denounces cynicism and callousness, stupidity and delusions of grandeur, greed and cruelty of those who had power and authority at that time, the disastrous and hopeless situation of the peasantry. There was strict censorship then, so the writer could not openly criticize the established state of affairs. But he could not endure in silence, like the “wise minnow,” so he clothed his thoughts in a fairy tale.

Saltykov-Shchedrin’s fairy tale “The Horse”: summary

The author writes not about a slender racer, not about a submissive horse, not about a fine mare, and not even about a working horse. And about the goner, the poor fellow, the hopeless, the uncomplaining slave.

How does he live, Saltykov-Shchedrin wonders in “The Horse,” without hope, without joy, without the meaning of life? Where does one get the strength for daily hard labor and endless labor? They feed him and let him rest only so that he does not die and can still work. Even from the brief content of the fairy tale “The Horse” it is clear that the serf is not a person at all, but a labor unit. “...It is not his well-being that is needed, but a life capable of bearing the yoke of work...” And if you don’t plow, who needs you, only damage to the farm.

Weekdays

In the summary of “The Horse,” first of all, it is necessary to tell how the stallion monotonously does his job all year round. Day after day, the same thing, furrow after furrow, with all my strength. The field does not end, there is no plowing left. For someone a field-space, but for a horse - bondage. Like a “cephalopod”, it sucks and presses, taking away strength. Bread is difficult. But he’s not there either. Like water in dry sand: it was and is not.

And there probably was a time when the horse frolicked on the grass as a foal, played with the breeze and thought how beautiful, interesting, deep life is, how it sparkles with different colors. And now he lies in the sun, thin, with protruding ribs, shabby fur and bleeding wounds. Mucus flows from the eyes and nose. There is darkness and lights before my eyes. And all around there are flies, gadflies, hanging around, drinking blood, getting into my ears and eyes. And we need to get up, the field is not plowed, and there is no way to get up. Eat, they tell him, you won’t be able to work. And he no longer has the strength to reach for food, he can’t even move his ear.

Field

Wide open spaces, covered with greenery and ripe wheat, conceal within themselves the enormous magical power of life. She is chained in the ground. Freed, she would heal the horse’s wounds and take the burden of worries off the peasant’s shoulders.

In the summary of “The Horse,” one cannot help but tell how, day after day, a horse and a peasant work on it, like bees, giving away their sweat, their strength, time, blood and life. For what? Wouldn't they have had at least a small share of the enormous power?

Idle Dancers

In the summary of “The Horse” by Saltykov-Shchedrin, it is impossible not to show the dancing horses. They consider themselves the chosen ones. Rotten straw is for horses, but for them it is only oats. And they will be able to justify this competently and convince that this is the norm. And their horseshoes are probably gilded and their manes are silky. They frolic in the wild, creating a myth for everyone that the horse father intended it this way: for some everything, for others only the minimum, so that the labor units do not die. And suddenly it is revealed to them that they are superficial foam, and the peasant and horse who feed the whole world are immortal. “How so?” - the idle dancers will cackle and be surprised. How can a horse and a peasant be eternal? Where do they get their virtue from? Each idle dancer inserts his own. How can such an incident be justified for the world?

“But he’s stupid, this guy, he’s been plowing in the fields all his life, where does his intelligence come from?” - that’s what one says. In modern terms: “If you’re so smart, why don’t you have money?” What does the mind have to do with it? The strength of spirit is enormous in this frail body. “Work gives him happiness and peace,” another reassures himself. “Yes, he won’t be able to live any other way, he’s used to the whip, take it away and he’ll disappear,” develops a third. And having calmed down, they joyfully wish, as if for the good of the illness: “...This is who we need to learn from! This is who you should imitate! B-but, convict, b-but!”

Conclusion

The perception of the fairy tale “The Horse” by Saltykov-Shchedrin is different for each reader. But in all his works the author pities the common man or exposes the shortcomings of the ruling class. In the image of the Horse and the Peasant, the author has resigned, oppressed serfs, a huge number of working people earning their little penny. “...How many centuries he has been carrying this yoke - he does not know. He doesn’t calculate how many centuries he will have to carry it ahead...” The content of the fairy tale “The Horse” is like a short excursion into the history of the people.

Our rural priest gave the most beautiful sermon today for the holiday.

“Many centuries ago,” he said, “on this very day Truth came into the world.”

The truth is eternal. Before all ages, she sat with Christ the Lover of Mankind at the right hand of the Father, together with Him she became incarnate and lit her torch on earth. She stood at the foot of the Cross and was crucified with Christ; she sat, in the form of a luminous angel, at His tomb and saw His Resurrection. And when the Lover of Mankind ascended to heaven, He left Truth on earth as a living testimony of His unchanging favor to the human race.

Since then, there has been no corner in the whole world into which Truth has not penetrated and filled it with itself. The truth educates our conscience, warms our hearts, enlivens our work, indicates the goal towards which our lives should be directed. Sorrowful hearts find in her a faithful and always open refuge, in which they can calm down and be consoled from the random worries of life.

Those who claim that Truth has ever hidden its face, or - what is even worse - has ever been defeated by untruth, think wrongly. No, even in those sorrowful moments when it seemed to short-sighted people that the father of lies was triumphant, in reality Truth triumphed. She alone did not have a temporary character, she alone invariably walked forward, spreading her wings over the world and illuminating it with her bringing light. The imaginary triumph of lies dissipated like a heavy dream, and the Truth continued its march.

Together with the persecuted and humiliated, Truth went into the dungeons and penetrated into the mountain gorges. She ascended with the righteous to the bonfires and stood next to them in the face of their tormentors. She kindled a sacred flame in their souls, drove away from them thoughts of cowardice and betrayal; she taught them to suffer to their fullest. In vain did the servants of the father of lies pretend to triumph, seeing this triumph in those material signs that represented executions and death. The most brutal executions were powerless to break the Truth, but, on the contrary, imparted to it a greater attractive force. At the sight of these executions, simple hearts lit up, and in them the Truth found new grateful soil for sowing. The fires burned and devoured the bodies of the righteous, but from the flames of these fires countless lights were kindled, just as on bright morning, from the flame of one lit candle, the entire temple is suddenly illuminated with thousands of candles.

What is the Truth that I am talking to you about? The Gospel commandment answers this question. First of all, love God, and then love your neighbor as yourself. This commandment, despite its brevity, contains all the wisdom, the whole meaning of human life.

Love God - for He is the Giver of Life and the Lover of Humanity, for in Him is the source of goodness, moral beauty and truth. In Him is Truth. In this very temple, where the bloodless Sacrifice is offered to God, unceasing service to the Truth is also performed in it. All its walls are saturated with Truth, so that when you enter the temple, even the worst of you, you feel peaceful and enlightened. Here, in the face of the Crucified One, you quench your sorrows; here you will find peace for your troubled souls. He was crucified for the sake of the Truth, the rays of which poured out from him to the whole world - will you weaken in spirit before the trials that befall you?

Love your neighbor as yourself - this is the second half of Christ’s commandment. I will not say that community life is impossible without love for one’s neighbor; I will say frankly, without reservations: this love in itself, apart from any extraneous considerations, is the beauty and exultation of our life. We must love our neighbor not for the sake of reciprocity, but for the sake of love itself. We must love unceasingly, selflessly, with a willingness to lay down our souls, just as a good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.

We must strive to help our neighbor, without counting on whether he will return or not return the service rendered to him; we must protect him from adversity, even if adversity threatens to engulf us; we must stand up for him before the powers that be, we must go into battle for him. The feeling of love for one's neighbor is the highest treasure that only man possesses and which distinguishes him from other animals. Without his life-giving spirit, all human affairs are dead, without him the very purpose of existence dims and becomes incomprehensible. Only those people live a full life who are aflame with love and selflessness; only they alone know the real joys of life.

So, let us love God and each other - this is the meaning of human Truth. Let us seek her and walk in her path. Let us not be afraid of the snares of lies, but let us become kind and oppose them with the Truth we have acquired. A lie will be put to shame, but the Truth will remain and warm the hearts of people.

Now you will return to your homes and indulge in the joy of the Nativity of the Lord and Lover of Mankind. But even in the midst of your joy, do not forget that Truth came into the world with it, that it is present among you all days, hours and minutes, and that it represents that sacred fire that illuminates and warms human existence.

When the priest finished and the words “Blessed be the name of the Lord” were heard from the choir, a deep sigh echoed throughout the church. It was as if the whole crowd of those praying was confirming with this sigh: “Yes, be blessed!”

But of those present in the church, the ten-year-old son of a small landowner, Seryozha Ruslantsev, listened most attentively to the words of Father Pavel. At times he even showed excitement, his eyes filled with tears, his cheeks burned, and he himself leaned forward with his whole body, as if he wanted to ask about something.

Marya Sergeevna Ruslantseva was a young widow and had a tiny estate in the village itself. During the time of serfdom in the village there were up to seven landowner estates, located within a short distance from each other. The landowners were small-scale landowners, and Fyodor Pavlych Ruslantsev was one of the poorest: he had only three peasant households and a dozen servants. But since he was almost constantly chosen for various positions, the service helped him accumulate a small capital. When liberation came, he received, as a small landowner, a preferential ransom and, continuing field farming on the piece of land that remained behind the allotment, he could exist from day to day.

Marya Sergeevna married him a considerable time after the peasants' liberation, and a year later she was already a widow. Fyodor Pavlych was inspecting his forest plot on horseback; the horse got scared of something, knocked him out of the saddle, and he hit his head on a tree. Two months later, the young widow had a son.

Marya Sergeevna lived more than modestly. She violated field cultivation, gave the land to the peasants, and left behind her an estate with a small piece of land on which a garden with a small vegetable garden was planted. Her entire household inventory consisted of one horse and three cows; all the servants were from the same family of former servants, consisting of her old nanny with her daughter and married son. The nanny looked after everything in the house and nurtured little Seryozha; the daughter was cooking, the son and his wife went after the cattle, poultry, cultivated the vegetable garden, garden, etc. Life flowed on silently. There was no need felt; firewood and basic food supplies were unpurchased, and there was almost no demand for purchased food. Household members said: “It’s like we live in paradise!” Marya Sergeevna herself also forgot that there is another life in the world (she glimpsed it from the windows of the institute in which she was brought up). Only Seryozha disturbed her from time to time. At first he grew well, but, approaching the age of seven, he began to show signs of some kind of morbid impressionability.

He was an intelligent, quiet boy, but at the same time weak and sickly. From the age of seven, Marya Sergeevna put him in charge of reading and writing; At first she taught herself, but then, when the boy began to approach ten years old, Father Pavel also took part in the teaching. It was supposed to send Seryozha to a gymnasium, and therefore it was necessary to acquaint him with at least the first foundations of ancient languages. The time was approaching, and Marya Sergeevna, in great confusion, thought about the upcoming separation from her son. Only at the cost of this separation could educational goals be achieved. The provincial town was far away, and it was not possible to move there with an annual income of six or seven hundred. She had already corresponded about Seryozha with her brother, who lived in a provincial town, occupying an invisible position, and the other day she received a letter in which her brother agreed to accept Seryozha into his family.

Upon returning from church, over tea, Seryozha continued to worry.

- Mommy, I really want to live! - he repeated.

“Yes, my dear, the main thing in life is the truth,” his mother reassured him, “only your life is still ahead.” Children don’t live any other way, and they can’t live as if it were true.

- No, that’s not how I want to live; Father said that he who lives in truth must protect his neighbor from harm. This is how you need to live, but do I really live like that? Just the other day, Ivan Bedny’s cow was sold - did I really stand up for him? I just watched and cried.

“It’s in these tears that your child’s truth lies.” You couldn't do anything else. They sold a cow from Ivan Bedny - according to the law, for a debt. There is such a law that everyone is obliged to pay their debts.

- Ivan, mom, couldn’t pay. He would have liked to, but he couldn’t. And the nanny says: “There is no poorer man in the whole village than him.” What kind of truth is this?

“I repeat to you, there is such a law, and everyone must obey the law.” If people live in society, then they have no right to neglect their responsibilities. You better think about your studies - that’s your truth. If you enter the gymnasium, be diligent, behave quietly - this will mean that you are truly living. I don't like it when you worry so much. Whatever you see, whatever you hear, it all somehow sinks into your heart. Father spoke generally; in church you can’t even say otherwise, but you apply it to yourself. Pray for your neighbors - God won’t ask you more than that.

But Seryozha did not calm down. He ran to the kitchen, where at that time the servants had gathered and drank tea for the sake of the holiday. The cook Stepanida was busy around the stove with a fork and every now and then pulled out a pot of boiling fatty cabbage soup. The smell of rotten slaughter and birthday cake permeated the entire air.

- I, nanny, will live in truth! – Seryozha announced.

- Since when did you get ready! – the old woman joked.

- No, nanny, I gave myself the right word! I will die for the truth, but I will not submit to untruth!

- Oh, my sick one! Look what came into your head!

“Didn’t you hear what the priest said in church?” One must believe life to be true - that’s what! Everyone must go into battle for the truth!

– We know what to say in church! This is why the church was given, to hear about righteous deeds. Just you, my dear, listen, listen, and use your mind too!

“You have to live with the truth looking back,” said the worker Grigory reasonably.

- Why, for example, are mom and I drinking tea in the dining room, and you in the kitchen? “Is this true?” Seryozha got excited.

“The truth is not true, but it’s been like this since time immemorial.” We are simple people, we feel good in the kitchen. If everyone had gone to the dining room, the rooms would not have been prepared.

- You, Sergei Fedorych, that’s what! - Gregory intervened again, - when you are big, sit wherever you want: whether you want in the dining room, or in the kitchen. And Pokedova is small, sit with your mother - you won’t find a better truth for your age than this! Father will come to dinner already, and he will tell you the same. You never know what we do: we follow the cattle and dig in the ground, but the masters don’t have to do this. So that!

- But this is not true!

– And in our opinion it’s like this: if gentlemen are kind and compassionate, this is their truth. And if we, workers, diligently serve our masters, do not deceive, try our best - this is our truth. Thank you also if everyone observes his own truth.

There was a moment of silence. Seryozha, apparently, wanted to object to something, but Grigory’s arguments were so good-natured that he hesitated.

“In our direction,” the nanny was the first to break the silence, “where your mother and I came from, lived the landowner Rassoshnikov.” At first he lived like others, and suddenly he wanted to live in truth. And what did he do in the end? - He sold his estate, distributed the money to the poor, and went on a journey... Since then, he has not been seen.

- Oh, nanny! what a man this is!

“By the way, his son served in a regiment in St. Petersburg,” added the nanny.

“The father gave away the estate, but the son was left with nothing... I should ask the son if his father’s truth is good?” reasoned Gregory.

“Didn’t the son understand that his father acted truthfully?” – Seryozha intervened.

- The fact is that he didn’t understand it too much, but also tried to bother. Why, he says, did he assign me to the regiment, if now I have nothing to support myself with?

“I was assigned to the regiment... I have nothing to support myself...” Seryozha mechanically repeated after Grigory, getting confused among these comparisons.

“And I remember one case,” continued Grigory, “a man in our village took over from this very Rassoshnikov - he was called Martyn. He also distributed all the money he had to the poor, left only the hut for the family, and he put a bag over his shoulder, and left, stealthily, at night, wherever his eyes looked. Only, listen, he forgot to straighten the patch - a month later he was sent home.

- For what? did he do anything bad? – Seryozha objected.

– The bad is not the bad, I’m not talking about that, but about the fact that in truth you have to live looking back. You are not allowed to walk without a passport - that’s all there is to it. This way everyone will scatter, they will quit their jobs - and there will be no end to them, the vagabonds...

The tea is over. Everyone got up from the table and prayed. “Well, now we’ll have dinner,” said the nanny, “go, my dear, to mamma, sit with her; Soon, my father and mother will come too.

Indeed, at about two o'clock Father Paul and his wife came.

- I, father, will live in truth! I will fight for the truth! – Seryozha greeted the guests.

- That’s how a warrior found himself! You can’t see it from the ground, but you’re already ready for battle! – the priest joked.

- I'm tired of him. “Everyone has been talking about the same thing since morning,” said Marya Sergeevna.

- Nothing, madam. He will talk and forget.

- No, I won’t forget! - Serezha insisted, - you yourself said just now that you need to live in truth... you said it in church!

“That’s why the church was established, to proclaim the truth in it.” If I, the shepherd, do not fulfill my duty, the church itself will remind me of the truth. And besides me, every word that is pronounced in it is Truth; only hardened hearts can remain deaf to her...

- In the church? and live?

– And one should live in truth. When you reach the proper age, then you will understand the truth in full, but for now, the truth that is characteristic of your age is enough for you. Love your mother, have respect for your elders, study diligently, behave modestly - this is your truth.

- But martyrs... you yourself said just now...

– There were also martyrs. Truth and reproach should be accepted as truth. But the time has not come for you to think about it. And besides, to say: then there was time, and now it’s different, the truth has increased - and there are no more martyrs.

“Martyrs... bonfires...” Seryozha babbled in embarrassment.

- Enough! – Marya Sergeevna impatiently shouted at him.

Seryozha fell silent, but remained thoughtful throughout dinner. During dinner there were casual conversations about village affairs. Stories followed stories, and it was not always clear from them that the truth would triumph. Strictly speaking, there was neither truth nor untruth, but there was ordinary life, in those forms and with the lining to which everyone was accustomed from time immemorial. Seryozha had heard these conversations countless times and was never particularly worried by them. But on this day something new penetrated into his being, which incited and excited him.

- Eat! - his mother forced him, seeing that he was hardly eating at all.

“In corpore sano mens sana [In a healthy body there is a healthy spirit (Latin)],” the priest added for his part. - Listen to your mother - this is the best way to prove your love for the truth. One must love the truth, but imagining oneself as a martyr for no reason is already vanity, vanity.

The new mention of the truth alarmed Seryozha; he leaned towards the plate and tried to eat; but suddenly he burst into tears. Everyone fussed and surrounded him.

“Does your head hurt?” asked Marya Sergeevna.

- Well, go to bed. Nanny, put him to bed!

He was taken away. Lunch was interrupted for several minutes because Marya Sergeevna could not stand it and left after the nanny. Finally, both returned and announced that Seryozha had fallen asleep.

- It’s okay, he’ll fall asleep and it’ll pass! – Father Pavel reassured Marya Sergeevna.

In the evening, however, the headache not only did not subside, but a fever developed. Seryozha would get up anxiously in bed at night and keep rummaging around with his hands, as if he was looking for something.

-Martyn... one step at a time for the truth... what is it? - he babbled incoherently.

– Which Martin is he remembering? - Marya Sergeevna turned to the nanny, perplexed.

“And remember, there was a peasant in our village who left the house in the name of Christ... Gregory told Seryozha just now.

- You're still talking nonsense! - Marya Sergeevna got angry, - it’s absolutely impossible to let the boy come to you.

The next day, after early mass, the priest volunteered to go to the city for a doctor. The city was forty miles away, so it was impossible to wait for the doctor to arrive before nightfall. And the doctor, I must admit, was old and bad; He did not use any other drugs except opodeldok, which he prescribed both externally and internally. In the city they said about him: “He doesn’t believe in medicine, but he believes in medicine.”

At night, around eleven o'clock, the doctor arrived. He examined the patient, felt the pulse and announced that he had a fever. Then he ordered the patient to be rubbed with opodeldok and forced him to swallow two pellets.

“It’s hot, but you’ll see that the opodeldok will take everything away!” – he announced gravely.

The doctor was fed and put to bed, but Seryozha tossed and burned all night like he was on fire.

They woke up the doctor several times, but he repeated the opodeldok techniques and continued to assure that by the morning everything would be over.

Seryozha was delirious; in delirium, he repeated: “Christ... Truth... Rassoshnikov... Martyn...” and continued to fumble around himself, saying: “Where? where?..” By morning, however, he calmed down and fell asleep.

The doctor left, saying: “You see!” - and citing that other patients were waiting for him in the city.

The whole day passed between fear and hope. As long as it was light outside, the patient felt better, but the loss of strength was so great that he almost did not speak. With the onset of dusk, the “hotness” began again and the pulse began to beat faster. Marya Sergeevna stood at his bedside in silent horror, trying to understand something but not understanding.

Opodeldok was abandoned; The nanny applied vinegar compresses to Seryozha’s head, put on mustard plasters, gave him linden blossom to drink, in a word, randomly and inappropriately used all the remedies that she had heard of and that were at hand.

By nightfall the agony began. At eight o'clock in the evening the full month rose, and since the curtains on the windows, due to an oversight, were not lowered, a large bright spot formed on the wall. Seryozha stood up and stretched his hands towards him.

- Mother! - he babbled, - look! all in white... this is Christ... this is the Truth... Behind him... to him...

He fell over onto the pillow, sobbed like a child and died.

The truth flashed before him and filled his being with bliss; but the youth’s fragile heart could not withstand the influx and burst.

“A Christmas Tale” Saltykov-Shchedrin

Our rural priest gave the most beautiful sermon today for the holiday.

“Many centuries ago,” he said, “on this very day Truth came into the world.

The truth is eternal. Before all centuries, she sat with Christ the lover of mankind at the right hand of her father, together with him she was incarnated and lit her torch on earth. She stood at the foot of the cross and was crucified with Christ; she sat, in the form of a luminous angel, at his tomb and saw his resurrection. And when the lover of mankind ascended to heaven, he left Truth on earth as living evidence of his unchanging benevolence towards the human race.

Those who claim that Truth has ever hidden its face, or - what is even worse - has ever been defeated by Untruth, think wrongly. No, even in those sorrowful moments when it seemed to short-sighted people that the father of lies was triumphant, in reality Truth triumphed. She alone did not have a temporary character, she alone invariably walked forward, spreading her wings over the world and illuminating it with her bringing light. The imaginary triumph of lies dissipated like a heavy dream, and the Truth continued its march.

Love God - for he is the giver of life and lover of mankind, for in him is the source of goodness, moral beauty and truth. There is Truth in it. In this very temple, where a bloodless sacrifice is offered to God, unceasing service to the Truth is also performed in it. All its walls are saturated with Truth, so that when you enter the temple, even the worst of you, you feel peaceful and enlightened. Here, in the face of the crucified one, you quench your sorrows; here you will find peace for your troubled souls. He was crucified for the sake of the Truth, the rays of which poured out from him to the whole world - will you weaken in spirit before the trials that befall you?

Love your neighbor as yourself - this is the second half of Christ’s commandment. I will not say that without love for one’s neighbor it is impossible to live together; I will say frankly, without reservations: this love in itself, apart from any extraneous considerations, is the beauty and exultation of our life. We must love our neighbor not for the sake of reciprocity, but for the sake of love itself. We must love unceasingly, selflessly, with a willingness to lay down our souls, just as a good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.

Now you will return to your homes and indulge in the joy of the feast of the Nativity of the Lord and lover of mankind. But even in the midst of your joy, do not forget that Truth came into the world with it, that it is present among you all days, hours and minutes, and that it represents that sacred fire that illuminates and warms human existence.

When the priest finished and the words “Blessed be the name of the Lord” were heard from the choir, a deep sigh echoed throughout the church. It was as if the entire crowd of those praying was confirming with this sigh: “Yes, be blessed!”

Marya Sergeevna lived more than modestly. She violated field cultivation, gave the land to the peasants, and left behind her an estate with a small piece of land on which a garden with a small vegetable garden was planted. Her entire household inventory consisted of one horse and three cows; all the servants are from the same family of former servants, consisting of her old nanny with her daughter and married son. The nanny looked after everything in the house and nurtured little Seryozha; the daughter was cooking, the son and his wife went after the cattle, poultry, cultivated the vegetable garden, garden, etc. Life flowed on silently. There was no need felt; firewood and basic food supplies were unpurchased, and there was almost no demand for purchased food. The household said: “It’s like we’re living in paradise!” Marya Sergeevna herself also forgot that there is another life in the world (she glimpsed it from the windows of the institute in which she was brought up). Only Seryozha disturbed her from time to time. At first he grew well, but, approaching the age of seven, he began to show signs of some kind of morbid impressionability.

Upon returning from church, over tea, Seryozha continued to worry.

Mommy, I really want to live! - he repeated.

Yes, my dear, the main thing in life is the truth,” his mother reassured him, “only your life is still ahead.” Children don’t live any other way, and they can’t live as if it were true.

No, this is not how I want to live; Father said that he who lives in truth must protect his neighbor from harm. This is how you need to live, but do I really live like that? Just the other day, Ivan Poor’s cow was sold - did I really stand up for him? I just watched and cried.

It’s in these tears that your child’s truth lies. You couldn't do anything else. They sold a cow from Ivan Bedny - according to the law, for a debt. There is such a law that everyone is obliged to pay their debts.

Ivan, mother, could not pay. He would have liked to, but he couldn’t. And the nanny says: “There is no poorer man in the whole village than him.” What kind of truth is this?

I repeat to you, there is such a law, and everyone must obey the law. If people live in society, then they have no right to neglect their responsibilities. You better think about your studies - that’s your truth. If you enter the gymnasium, be diligent, behave quietly - this will mean that you are truly living. I don't like it when you worry so much. Whatever you see, whatever you hear, it all somehow sinks into your heart. Father spoke generally; in church you can’t even say otherwise, but you apply it to yourself. Pray for your neighbors - God won’t ask you more than that.

I, nanny, will live in truth! - announced Seryozha.

Look, since when did you get ready! - the old woman joked.

No, nanny, I gave myself the right word! I will die for the truth, but I will not submit to untruth!

Oh, my sick one! Look what came into your head!

Didn't you hear what the priest said in church? Life must be believed to be true - that’s what! Everyone must go into battle for the truth!

It is known what to say in church! This is why the church was given, to hear about righteous deeds. Just you, my dear, listen, listen, and use your mind too!

“You have to live with the truth looking back,” said the worker Grigory reasonably.

Why, for example, are my mother and I drinking tea in the dining room, and you in the kitchen? “Is this true?” Seryozha got excited.

The truth is not true, but this has been the case since time immemorial. We are simple people, we feel good in the kitchen. If everyone had gone to the dining room, the rooms would not have been prepared.

You, Sergei Fedorych, that’s what! - Grigory intervened again, - when you are big, sit wherever you want: whether you want in the dining room, or in the kitchen. And Pokedova is small, sit with your mother - you won’t find a better truth for your age than this! Father will come to dinner already, and he will tell you the same. We don’t know what we do: we follow the cattle, we dig in the ground, but the Lords don’t have to do this. So that!

But this is not true!

And in our opinion it’s like this: if the Lord is kind and compassionate, this is their truth. And if we, workers, diligently serve our masters, do not deceive, and try - this is our truth. Thank you also if everyone observes his own truth.

There was a moment of silence. Seryozha, apparently, wanted to object to something, but Grigory’s arguments were so good-natured that he hesitated.

In our direction,” the nanny was the first to break the silence, “where your mother and I came from, lived the landowner Rassoshnikov. At first he lived like others, and suddenly he wanted to live in truth. And what did he do in the end? - He sold his estate, distributed the money to the poor, and went on a journey... Since then, he has not been seen.

Ah, nanny! what a man this is!

And by the way, his son served in a regiment in St. Petersburg,” added the nanny.

The father gave away the estate, but the son was left with nothing... I should ask the son if his father’s truth is good? - Gregory reasoned.

Didn’t the son understand that his father acted truthfully? - Seryozha intervened.

The fact is that he didn’t understand it too much, but also tried to bother. Why, he says, did he assign me to the regiment, if now I have nothing to support myself with?

I was assigned to the regiment... I have nothing to support myself... - Seryozha mechanically repeated after Grigory, getting confused among these comparisons.

And I have one case in my memory,” continued Grigory, “from this same Rassoshnikov, there was one peasant in our village - he was called Martyn. He also distributed all the money he had to the poor, left only the hut for the family, and he put a bag over his shoulder, and left, stealthily, at night, wherever his eyes looked. Only, listen, he forgot to straighten the patch - a month later he was sent home.

For what? did he do anything bad? - Seryozha objected.

The bad is not the bad, I’m not talking about that, but about the fact that in truth you have to live looking back. You are not allowed to walk without a passport - that's all there is to it. This way everyone will scatter, quit their jobs - and there will be no end to them, the vagabonds...

The tea is over. Everyone got up from the table and prayed. “Well, now we’ll have dinner,” said the nanny, “go, my dear, to mamma, sit with her; Soon, my father and mother will come too.

Indeed, at about two o'clock Father Paul and his wife came.

I, father, will live in truth! I will fight for the truth! - Seryozha greeted the guests.

This is how a warrior was found! You can’t see it from the ground, but you’re already ready for battle! - the priest joked.

I'm tired of him. “Everyone has been talking about the same thing since morning,” said Marya Sergeevna.

Nothing, madam. He will talk and forget.

No, I won't forget! - Serezha insisted, - you yourself said just now that you need to live in truth... they said it in church!

This is why the church was established, to proclaim the truth in it. If I, the shepherd, do not fulfill my duty, the church itself will remind me of the truth. And besides me, every word that is pronounced in it is Truth; only hardened hearts can remain deaf to her...

In the church? and live?

And one should live in truth. When you reach the proper age, then you will understand the truth in full, but for now, the truth that is characteristic of your age is enough for you. Love your mother, have respect for your elders, study diligently, behave modestly - this is your truth.

But martyrs... you yourself said just now...

There were also martyrs. Truth and reproach should be accepted as truth. But the time has not come for you to think about it. And besides, to say: then there was time, and now it’s different, the truth has multiplied - and there are no more martyrs.

Martyrs... bonfires... - Seryozha babbled in embarrassment.

Enough! - Marya Sergeevna impatiently shouted at him.

Eat! - his mother forced him, seeing that he was hardly eating at all.

In corpore sano mens sana [In a healthy body there is a healthy spirit (lat.)], - for his part the priest added. - Listen to your mother - this is the best way to prove your love for the truth. One must love the truth, but imagining oneself as a martyr for no reason is already vanity, vanity.

The new mention of the truth alarmed Seryozha; he leaned towards the plate and tried to eat; but suddenly he burst into tears. Everyone fussed and surrounded him.

“Does your head hurt?” Marya Sergeevna asked.

Well, go to bed. Nanny, put him to bed!

He was taken away. Lunch was interrupted for several minutes because Marya Sergeevna could not stand it and left after the nanny. Finally, both returned and announced that Seryozha had fallen asleep.

It’s okay, he’ll fall asleep and it’ll pass! - Father Pavel reassured Marya Sergeevna.

Martin... one step at a time for the truth... what is it? - he babbled incoherently.

Which Martin is he remembering? - Marya Sergeevna turned to the nanny, perplexed.

Do you remember, in our village there was a peasant who left home in the name of Christ... Gregory told Seryozha the other day.

You're still talking nonsense! - Marya Sergeevna got angry, “it’s absolutely impossible to let the boy come to you.”

It’s hot, but you’ll see that the opodeldok will take it all away! - he announced gravely.

The doctor was fed and put to bed, but Seryozha tossed and burned all night like he was on fire.

They woke up the doctor several times, but he repeated the opodeldok techniques and continued to assure that by the morning everything would be over.

Seryozha was delirious; in delirium, he repeated: “Christ... Truth... Rassoshnikov... Martyn...” and continued to fumble around himself, saying: “Where? Where?..” By morning, however, he calmed down and fell asleep.

The doctor left, saying: “You see!” - and citing that other patients were waiting for him in the city.

Mother! - he babbled, - look! all in white... this is Christ... this is the Truth... Behind him... to him...

He fell over onto the pillow, sobbed like a child and died.

The truth flashed before him and filled his being with bliss; but the youth’s fragile heart could not withstand the influx and burst.

Ram-Nepomnyaschiy
The Nepomnyashchy Ram is the hero of a fairy tale. He began to see unclear dreams that worried him, making him suspect that “the world does not end with the walls of a stable.” The sheep began to mockingly call him “clever” and “philosopher” and shunned him. The ram withered and died. Explaining what happened, the shepherd Nikita suggested that the deceased “saw a free ram in a dream.”

BOGATYR
The hero is the hero of a fairy tale, the son of Baba Yaga. Sent by her to his exploits, he uprooted one oak tree, crushed another with his fist, and when he saw a third one with a hollow, he climbed in and fell asleep, terrifying the surrounding area with his snoring. His fame was great. They were both afraid of the hero and hoped that he would gain strength in his sleep. But centuries passed, and he still slept, not coming to the aid of his country, no matter what happened to it. When, during an enemy invasion, they approached him to help him out, it turned out that the Bogatyr had long been dead and rotten. His image was so clearly aimed against the autocracy that the tale remained unpublished until 1917.

WILD LANDLORD
The wild landowner is the hero of the fairy tale of the same name. Having read the retrograde newspaper “Vest”, he stupidly complained that “there are too many divorced... men,” and tried in every possible way to oppress them. God heard the tearful prayers of the peasants, and “there was no man in the entire domain of the stupid landowner.” He was delighted (the air had become “clean”), but it turned out that now he could neither receive guests, nor eat himself, nor even wipe the dust off the mirror, and there was no one to pay taxes to the treasury. However, he did not deviate from his “principles” and, as a result, became wild, began to move on all fours, lost human speech and became like a predatory beast (once he did not lift up the policeman’s canard). Concerned about the lack of taxes and the impoverishment of the treasury, the authorities ordered “to catch the peasant and bring him back.” With great difficulty they also caught the landowner and brought him into more or less decent shape.

CRUCCIAN IDEALIST
The idealistic crucian carp is the hero of the fairy tale of the same name. Living in a quiet backwater, he is content and cherishes dreams of the triumph of good over evil and even of the opportunity to reason with Pike (whom he has seen since birth) that she has no right to eat others. He eats shells, justifying himself by saying that “they just crawl into your mouth” and they “don’t have a soul, but steam.” Having presented himself before Pike with his speeches, he was released for the first time with the advice: “Go and sleep it off!” The second time he was suspected of “Sicilism” and was pretty much bitten during interrogation by Okun, and the third time Pike was so surprised by his exclamation: “Do you know what virtue is?” - that she opened her mouth and almost involuntarily swallowed her interlocutor." The image of Karas grotesquely captures the features of liberalism contemporary to the writer.

SANE BUNNY
The sane hare, the hero of the fairy tale of the same name, “reasoned so sensibly that it was fit for a donkey.” He believed that “every animal is given its own life” and that, although “everyone eats hares,” he is “not picky” and “will agree to live in any way.” In the heat of this philosophizing, he was caught by the Fox, who, bored with his speeches, ate him.

KISSEL
Kissel, the hero of the fairy tale of the same name, “was so soft and soft that he didn’t feel any discomfort from eating it. The gentlemen were so fed up with it that they gave the pigs something to eat, so in the end, “all that was left of the jelly was dried scrapes." In a grotesque form, both peasant humility and the post-reform impoverishment of the village, robbed not only by the "gentlemen" landowners, but also by new bourgeois predators, who, according to the satirist, are like pigs, "do not know satiety... ".

The generals are the characters in “The Tale of How One Man Fed Two Generals.” Miraculously, we found ourselves on a desert island wearing only nightgowns and medals around our necks. They didn’t know how to do anything and, being hungry, almost ate each other. Having come to their senses, they decided to look for the man and, having found him, demanded that he feed them. Later they lived on his labors, and when they got bored, he built “a vessel so that one could sail across the ocean.” Upon returning to St. Petersburg, G. received the pension accumulated over the past years, and gave their breadwinner a glass of vodka and a nickel of silver.

Ruff is a character in the fairy tale “Crucian the Idealist.” He looks at the world with bitter sobriety, seeing strife and savagery everywhere. Karas is ironic about his reasoning, accusing him of complete ignorance of life and inconsistency (Crucian is indignant at Pike, but eats shells himself). However, he admits that “after all, you can talk to him alone to your liking,” and at times even slightly wavers in his skepticism, until the tragic outcome of the “dispute” between Karas and Pike confirms that he is right.

The liberal is the hero of the fairy tale of the same name. “I was eager to do a good deed,” but out of caution I increasingly moderated my ideals and aspirations. At first he acted only “if possible,” then agreeing to get “at least something” and, finally, acting “in relation to meanness,” consoled by the thought: “Today I’m wallowing in the mud, and tomorrow the sun will come out and dry the mud - I’m good again.” -Well done!" The patron eagle is the hero of the fairy tale of the same name. He surrounded himself with a whole court staff and even agreed to introduce science and art. However, he soon got tired of this (however, the Nightingale was driven out immediately), and he brutally dealt with the Owl and the Falcon, who were trying to teach him literacy and arithmetic, imprisoned the historian Woodpecker in a hollow, etc. The wise minnow is the hero of the fairy tale of the same name, “enlightened, moderate -liberal". Since childhood, I was frightened by my father’s warnings about the danger of getting hit in the ear and concluded that “you have to live in such a way that no one notices.” He dug a hole just to fit himself in, made no friends or family, lived and trembled, and in the end even received pike praise: “If only everyone lived like this, the river would be quiet!” Only before his death did the “wise one” realize that in this case “perhaps the entire gudgeon family would have died out long ago.” The story of the wise minnow in an exaggerated form expresses the meaning, or rather the whole nonsense, of cowardly attempts to “devote oneself to the cult of self-preservation,” as stated in the book “Abroad.” The features of this character are clearly visible, for example, in the heroes of “The Modern Idyll”, in Polozhilov and other Shchedrin heroes. The remark made by the then critic in the newspaper “Russkie Vedomosti” is also characteristic: “We are all more or less minnows...”

THE WISE PISCAR
The wise minnow is the “enlightened, moderately liberal” hero of the fairy tale. Since childhood, I was frightened by my father’s warnings about the danger of getting hit in the ear and concluded that “you have to live in such a way that no one notices.” He dug a hole just to fit himself in, made no friends or family, lived and trembled, and in the end even received pike praise: “If only everyone lived like this, the river would be quiet!” Only before his death did the “wise man” realize that in this case “perhaps the entire pis-brown family would have died out long ago.” The story of the wise minnow in an exaggerated form expresses the meaning, or rather the whole nonsense, of cowardly attempts to “devote oneself to the cult of self-preservation,” as stated in the book “Abroad.” The features of this character are clearly visible, for example, in the heroes of “The Modern Idyll”, in Polozhilov and other Shchedrin heroes. The remark made by the then critic in the newspaper “Russkie Vedomosti” is also characteristic: “We are all more or less minnows...”

Pustoplyas is a character in the fairy tale “The Horse,” the hero’s “brother,” who, unlike him, leads an idle life. The personification of the local nobility. The talk of the empty dancers about Konyaga as the embodiment of common sense, humility, “life of the spirit and the spirit of life,” etc., is, as a contemporary critic wrote to the writer, “the most offensive parody” of the then theories that sought to justify and even glorify “hard labor” peasants, their downtroddenness, darkness and passivity.

Ruslantsev Seryozha is the hero of “A Christmas Tale,” a ten-year-old boy. After a sermon about the need to live by the truth, said, as the author seems to casually note, “for the holiday,” S. decided to do so. But his mother, the priest himself, and the servants warn him that “you have to live with the truth looking back.” Shocked by the discrepancy between lofty words (truly a Christmas fairy tale!) and real life, stories about the sad fate of those who tried to live in truth, the hero fell ill and died. The selfless hare is the hero of the fairy tale of the same name. He is caught by the Wolf and sits obediently awaiting his fate, not daring to run even when his fiancee’s brother comes for him and says that she is dying of grief. Released to see her, he returns back, as promised, receiving condescending wolfish praise.

Toptygin 1st is one of the heroes of the fairy tale “The Bear in the Voivodeship”. He dreamed of etching himself in history with a brilliant crime, but with a hangover he mistook a harmless siskin for his “inner adversary” and ate it. He became a universal laughing stock and was unable to correct his reputation even with his superiors, no matter how hard he tried - “he climbed into the printing house at night, smashed the machines, mixed up the type, and dumped the works of the human mind into a waste pit.” “And if he had started straight from the printing houses, he would have been... a general.”

Toptygin 2nd is a character in the fairy tale “The Bear in the Voivodeship.” Having arrived in the voivodeship with the expectation of ruining the printing house or burning down the university, he discovered that all this had already been done. I decided that it was no longer necessary to eradicate the “spirit”, but “to get right to the skin.” Having climbed up to a neighboring peasant, he killed all the cattle and wanted to destroy the yard, but was caught and put on a spear in disgrace.

Toptygin 3rd is a character from the fairy tale “The Bear in the Voivodeship.” I faced a painful dilemma: “if you do a little mischief, they will laugh at you; If you do a lot of mischief, they’ll raise you to the spear...” Arriving at the voivodeship, he hid in a den, without entering into control, and discovered that even without his intervention, everything in the forest was going on as usual. He began to leave the den only “to receive the assigned allowance” (although in the depths of his soul he wondered “why they were sending the governor”). Later he was killed by hunters, like “all fur-bearing animals,” also according to routine.