Chichikov at the governor's ball. (Analysis of an episode from the first chapter of N.V. Gogol’s poem “Dead Souls”)

I like to reread “Dead Souls” by N.V. Gogol from the fourth chapter, then return to the beginning of the poem. Remember where the fourth chapter begins: “Arriving at the tavern, Chichikov ordered to stop for two reasons. On the one hand, to give the horses a rest, and on the other hand, so that I myself can have a few snacks and refreshments.” But there was a third reason that Gogol kept silent about. I kept silent because this is the character of the main character. Chichikov “avoided talking much; if he spoke, then in some general places, with noticeable modesty, and his conversation in such cases took somewhat bookish turns: that he was an insignificant worm of this world and did not deserve to be cared for much, that he had experienced a lot in his life, suffered in the service for the truth, had many enemies who even attempted his life, and that now, wanting to calm down, he was finally looking for a place to live, and that, having arrived in this city, he considered it an indispensable duty to pay his respects to its first dignitaries.” That's all the townspeople knew about the “newcomer.”

Gogol calls Chichikov several times with this vague word. Nevertheless, the “newcomer” made an impression on city dignitaries, among whom were the governor, to whom he “visited with respect,” the vice-governor, the prosecutor, the chairman of the chamber, the police chief, the tax farmer, the head of state-owned factories... Chichikov even visited the inspector of the medical board and city architect. All, as it turned out, were the right people “in the enterprise” that Pavel Ivanovich had planned, and they all noticed the “newcomer.”

Chichikov went to the governor’s ball in a “lingonberry-colored tailcoat with a sparkle.” Again, it is no coincidence that Gogol dressed the hero of the poem in a tailcoat of such an unusual color. All invitees were dressed only in black tailcoats. Entering the hall, “before Chichikov had time to look around, he was already grabbed by the arm by the governor, who immediately introduced him to the governor’s wife.” Everyone at the ball noticed this. And everyone considered it an honor to meet the “newcomer” who was on the same page as the governor. At the ball, Chichikov met “the very courteous and polite landowner Manilov and the somewhat awkward-looking Sobakevich.” And even when Chichikov “with a polite bow” accepts the card for playing whist, his attention is still occupied by the landowners Manilov and Sobakevich. From the chairman of the chamber and the postmaster, Pavel Ivanovich casually found out “how many peasant souls each of them had and what the situation of their estates was, and then he inquired about the name and patronymic” of Manilov and Sobakevich. Throughout the entire poem, Chichikov looks like a fairly knowledgeable person and with a good memory, he would remember everyone by name and patronymic, as he remembered Nastasya Petrovna Korobochka, Mikhail Semyonovich Sobakevich and his wife Feoduliya Ivanovna, Stepan Plyushkin, the chairman of the chamber Ivan Grigorievich, Andrei Ivanovich Tentetnikov, Peter Petrovich Petukh, Konstantin Fedorovich Kostanzhoglo, but Gogol didn’t name...

“The next day Chichikov went for lunch and evening to the police chief, where from three o’clock after dinner they sat down to whist and played until two o’clock in the morning,” where Pavel Ivanovich met another landowner Nozdryov. Chichikov spent the third evening with the chairman of the chamber, the fourth with the vice-governor. Then he was “at a big dinner with the tax farmer,” “at a small dinner with the prosecutor, which, however, was worth a lot,” and finally, he dined with the city mayor... Pavel Ivanovich impressed the governor as a “well-intentioned person,” the prosecutor described him as “ a practical person,” the gendarme colonel considered him a “learned man,” the chairman of the chamber said that he was a “knowledgeable and respectable person,” the police chief added “and an amiable person” to the definition of “respectable.” The police chief's wife was so fascinated by Chichikov that she spoke of Pavel Ivanovich as “the most kind and courteous person.” Even Sobakevich, stingy with praise, telling his wife before going to bed that at an evening with the governor he met “college adviser Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov,” and that this acquaintance then continued at a dinner with the police chief, said about him: “a pleasant person!”

But none of these characteristics were the complete truth about Chichikov. No one in the city knew why Pavel Ivanovich actually came to their province.

In the fourth chapter, with which we began the conversation, Chichikov asked the owner of the inn, when she was setting the table, “whether she herself runs the inn, or is there an owner, and how much income does the inn give, and do their sons live with them, and is the eldest son single or a married man, and what kind of wife he took, whether with a large dowry or not, and whether the father-in-law was pleased, and whether he was angry that he received few gifts at the wedding - in a word, he didn’t miss anything.”

In this episode, Pavel Ivanovich appears to readers as an expert on Russian reality. Apparently, the innkeeper, who kindly answered his questions, thought so too. Chichikov kept the main question until the table was finished. Pavel Ivanovich became curious about what kind of landowners lived in the area, “and found out that there were all kinds of landowners: Blokhin, Pochitaev, Mylnoy, Cheprakov-Colonel, Sobakevich...”. In my life, I re-read “Dead Souls” more than once and never ceased to admire Gogol’s style, and, of course, the poem is dear to me also because Nikolai Vasilyevich mentioned the surname that I got from my father Fyodor Petrovich, and my father from his father , my grandfather Pyotr Antonovich, and my grandfather from his father, my great-grandfather Anton Alekseevich, and my great-grandfather from his father, my great-great-grandfather Alexei Ivanovich...

I have often wondered what would have happened to the literary hero if Gogol had turned his carriage to the landowner Blokhin, how he would have appeared from the pages of the poem, what his yard would have looked like, whether his farm was strong, how many peasants he might have had and how often they died , would he treat Chichikov, and if he treated him, then what dishes?

We know nothing about the landowner Blokhin, except for one small remark from the innkeeper that there are “all sorts of landowners” in the area.

This “all sorts” suggests that, most likely, the landowner Blokhin was not like any of those whom we learn about from the pages of the poem - nor like Manilov, who, when making the deal, told Chichikov that he would not take the money for souls “who in some way ended their existence,” not for Korobochka, who took fifteen rubles in banknotes for eighteen dead peasants and sold to Chichikov as if they were alive, not for Nozdryov, a reveler, a drunkard, a rogue who tried to find out from Chichikov, for what purpose is he buying up the dead, nor on Sobakevich, who does not draw any line between “non-existent” and real revision souls, who asked for “one hundred rubles apiece” like Korobochka, who “gave” two girls to Protopopov for one hundred rubles each, that Chichikov he screamed in surprise when he heard this, not at Plyushkin, whom our hero initially mistook “for a woman” and whose “peasants were dying like flies.”

And let’s also pay attention to Chichikov’s night conversation with Korobochka. Pavel Ivanovich thanked the landowner for the overnight stay and asked where he had gone and how to get to Sobakevich’s estate, to which Nastasya Petrovna replied that she had never heard of him and that there was no landowner with that name in the area. And then we will read the dialogue recorded by Gogol:

“At least you know Manilov?” said Chichikov.

Who is Manilov?

Landowner, mother.

No, I haven’t heard, there is no such landowner.

Which ones are there?

Bobrov, Svinin, Kanapatiev, Kharpakin, Trepakin, Pleshakov.

Rich people or not?

No, father, there are no too rich. Some have twenty souls, some have thirty, but there aren’t even a hundred of them.”

Korobochka’s last remark that there are no rich people among the local landowners suggests that the writer was not looking for wealthy people in this environment. Chichikov, despite the fact that he was “numb before the law,” was still a swindler, and was looking for his own kind... After all, the landowners, having sold Chichikov “dead souls” as living ones, relieved themselves of the obligation to pay taxes for them.

So, if Gogol had turned Chichikov’s carriage to the landowner Blokhin, we would have seen a poor, patriarchal Russia under a thatched or reed roof, as it was about thirty years before the reform of 1861.

Gogol talks about how Chichikov’s “undertaking” was caused by “the most inspired thought that has ever entered a human head,” calls the “plot” formed in Pavel Ivanovich’s head “strange,” “incredible,” and says that “no one will believe him.” “, however, in reality, speculation about “dead souls” has long been a fairly widespread fact.

“...Yes, if I bought all these people who died out before they gave us new revision tales... that’s already two hundred thousand for capital!” - Chichikov was not the only one who reasoned this way in Russia. Since the founding of the noble bank, the pledge of dead peasants as living ones has come into use among clever businessmen. Back in 1754, in the very first year of activity of the state loan bank, which received the name of the noble bank in everyday life, a certain ensign I. Bocharov mortgaged an estate of 25 souls for 250 rubles; and when, due to failure to pay on time, an inventory of his property was made, only four serfs and five quarters of the land were found alive in the village. By court decision, Bocharov was exiled to Siberia for hard labor.

A.S. Pushkin knew about the pledge of the “departed” peasants. Such an incident occurred near the village of Mikhailovskoye: one entrepreneur was caught buying and selling dead peasants. Count V.A. Sollogub (1814-1882), a writer, also said that Pushkin was shown a certain P. at the races, who made a fortune for himself from such an operation and was not put on trial. Similar stories happened in Ukraine. V. A. Gilyarovsky (1853-1935) spoke about one of them. In the Mirgorod region, Gilyarovsky said, the landowner Pivinsky, an acquaintance of Gogol, bought “dead souls” from his neighbors for vodka, recording them for himself, thereby circumventing the law that prohibited small estates from having their own distilleries.

Maria Grigorievna Anisimo-Yanovskaya, a distant relative of N.V. Gogol, argued that the origins of the plot of the poem should be sought in the writer’s native Mirgorod: “The idea of ​​writing “Dead Souls” was taken by Gogol from my uncle Pivinsky. Pivinsky had 200 acres of land and 30 peasants and five children. You can’t live richly, and there were Pivinsky distilleries. At that time, many landowners had their own distilleries, and there were no excise taxes. Suddenly officials began to travel around and collect information about everyone who had distilleries. There was a conversation about the fact that whoever does not have fifty peasant souls does not have the right to smoke wine. Then the small estates began to think: at least die without a distillery. And Kharlampy Petrovich Pivinsky slapped himself on the forehead and said: “Hey! didn’t think of it!” And he went to Poltava and paid rent for his dead peasants, as if for the living. And since there were not enough of his own, and even with the dead, to reach fifty, he filled the chaise with vodka, and went to the neighbors and bought dead souls from them for a vodka, wrote them down for himself and, according to the papers, became the owner of fifty souls, until before his death he smoked wine and gave this theme to Gogol, who visited Fedunki, Pivinsky’s estate, 17 versts from Yanovshchina; In addition, the entire Mirgorod region knew about Pivinsky’s dead souls.”

Pushkin himself, despite the fact that he was not a poor man - he received a salary of 5,000 rubles a year, was no exception and was looking for “a way to create a new industry,” as he himself said, “industry.” For the first time in Russian literature, he understood what copyright was, a publishing contract, and the sweetest word for any writer - royalties. “You can’t sell inspiration, but you can sell a manuscript,” and he knew how to sell. His fees at that time were fabulous. “Eugene Onegin” alone brought Pushkin 37 thousand rubles in royalties. For six years, book publisher A.F. Smirdin (1795-1857) paid him 109 thousand rubles, other publishers paid 20 thousand rubles during this time, and magazine publishers another 50 thousand rubles. But all this was small money compared to the expenses. Pushkin needed money all the time. In a letter to N.I. Goncharova, his future mother-in-law, he wrote on April 5, 1830: “Let’s move on to the issue of funds, I attach little importance to this issue. Until now, my condition has been enough for me. Will it be enough after my marriage? I will not tolerate anything in the world for my wife to experience hardships...”

But life decreed otherwise. On February 5, 1831, the poet pledged his 200 souls to the Moscow Guardianship Council, receiving a loan of 40 thousand rubles at 5 percent per annum. But in 1832 he no longer had this money. And the saddest thing is that during the last five years of his life Pushkin did not pay any interest or penalties, and this threatened to sell the estate under the hammer. For the years 1832-1833, Pushkin owed money to the homeowner P.A. Zhadimerovsky received 1,063 rubles for the apartment he rented. Zhadimerovsky filed a lawsuit, the poet lost the lawsuit, he had no money, and he was forced to pledge seven of his serf souls. And they still had to be sold.

“My financial circumstances,” the poet wrote, “are bad. I was forced to start writing the magazine.” Thus, Sovremennik arose out of need.

The first and second volumes of Sovremennik were printed in an unprecedentedly large print run for the new edition - 2,400 copies each. Pushkin expected to receive 60 thousand rubles of net income per year, but by the end of July 1836 only 700-800 copies of each volume were sold. This put Pushkin in the face of financial disaster. The result of the publication was unpaid bills: the printing house - 3175 rubles, the paper mill - 2447 rubles. The duel and death, as is known, freed Pushkin and his family from debt, from ruin, from collapse. The king paid the debts.

In such a “difficult situation”, about which the literary critic P. E. Shchegolev (1877-1931) sadly noted that “accounting obviously worried Pushkin very much,” there were many Russian nobles. By 1833, about four million serf souls were mortgaged to various credit institutions in Russia. The nobility “procured money in the face of its growing depreciation and growing need,” as one critic noted, by all means. Everyone lived in debt. Every Russian person assumed that “it is impossible to live on income.” Every Russian person did not measure expenses with income, but sought to match income to expenses. Everyone borrowed money, mortgaging estates into the treasury along with serfs, living and dead, about whom the secretary of the guardianship council, in response to Chichikov’s reservation that half of the peasants had died out, would say: “But they are listed according to the audit fairy tale?.. Well.” , so why are you afraid? one has died, another will be born, but everything is good for business.”

Before Gogol, such a phenomenon of serfdom was not reflected in Russian literature. Pushkin was the first to think of introducing the story of a buyer of “dead souls” into one of his works. Advising Gogol to “take on a great work,” the poet in 1835 gave him this plot, which added a bright touch to the depiction of the serf era: the peasant, both living and dead, was an object of purchase and sale and profit for the nobleman. Gogol took Pushkin’s advice, and his brilliant poem was born.

True, the historian of literature, Russian social thought, philosopher, translator E. A. Bobrov (1867-1933), one of the researchers of Gogol’s work, suggested that the “real master of the plot” is not Pushkin, not Gogol, but V. I. Dal (1801-1872). One of the heroes of his novel “Bacchus Sidorov Chaikin, or his story about his own life in the first half of his life,” the landowner Vasily Ivanovich Porubov bought up to two hundred dead souls for 5 and 10 rubles, “attributed them by legal act to a patch of swamp” , and then pledged them to the guardianship council at 200 rubles per head, and, taking 40 thousand, left the council to “deal with the swamp and the dead.”

Roman V.I. Dahl was published almost at the same time as Dead Souls, and this was presented as evidence that Dahl informed Pushkin, who allegedly knew little about Russian life, about the possibility of such speculation. You can read about Bobrov’s assumption in works about Gogol, for example, in the sixth volume of the Complete Works of N.V. Gogol (M.: Publishing House of the USSR Academy of Sciences, 1951. - P. 900). But in the first edition of the novel “Bacchus Sidorov Chaikin...” for 1843 there is no description of such a trick with “dead souls”. Dahl introduced it into the text only in 1846, that is, four years after the publication of the first edition of Dead Souls and in the year the second appeared.

Gogol’s “Dead Souls” is also distinguished by the accuracy of individual historical facts: “And now the time is convenient, recently there was an epidemic, a lot of people died out, thank God.” In the fall of 1830, a cholera epidemic swept through the central provinces of Russia. For this reason, Pushkin could not leave Boldino and stayed there until the winter.

Chichikov plans to buy up the dead and pledge them to the board of guardians at 200 rubles per head. From the book by A.V. Romanovich-Slavatinsky “The nobility of Russia from the beginning of the 18th century until the abolition of serfdom” (St. Petersburg, 1870. - pp. 342-344) it is known that the first loan amount of 50 rubles per head was established back in 1754 year. The size of the loan and the terms of their repayment changed in 1758, 1759, 1761. In 1786, loan repayment terms increased to 20 years. The nobles received a loan for 20 years at 5 percent per annum. According to the Manifesto of Paul I of 1797, “the bank must provide assistance to those noble families whose estates are burdened with debts,” and give collateral for the peasant soul of the 1st class - 75 rubles, 2nd - 65 rubles, 3rd - 50 rubles and 4th - 40 rubles.

The loan amount of 200 rubles was established by decree of 1824 and remained until 1839, when new loan benefits were given to nobles and the amount of the deposit was increased. Chichikov's trip, apparently, could not have taken place earlier than 1824 and later than 1839. Chichikov buys peasants “for withdrawal,” that is, without land, and only “male sex.” Such a purchase could not have occurred later than 1833, since in 1833 the Senate passed a law prohibiting the sale of serfs “with separation from the family,” and in 1841 the individual trade in people was completely stopped. Until 1833, such sales were common: peasants were "sold at fairs along with rams and other animals." From the Ryazan province “they were brought to the Uryupinsk fair shackled landowners, for selling them at retail,” Lieutenant Gololobov “sold serfs without land, and some with separation from their families.”

And General Betrishchev (the landowner from the second volume of the poem), who was amused by Chichikov’s invention, is ready to give him “dead souls” along with land and housing: “Take the whole cemetery for yourself!”

After the law of 1833, the purchase of Chichikov would have been a clear crime. But Gogol’s poem came out of print in 1842, when the “rules” for selling peasants changed, and the writer was criticized for inaccuracies. S. T. Aksakov (1791-1859), in particular, noted: “...peasants are sold in families for withdrawal, and Chichikov refused to be female; Without a power of attorney issued in a public place, it is impossible to sell other people’s peasants, and the chairman cannot be at the same time both a proxy and present in this matter,” as when buying souls from Plyushkin.

But Gogol did not deny this fact: “True, without land you can neither buy nor mortgage.” Chichikov, offering a deal to the doubting Manilov, says: “I am used to not deviating from civil laws in anything... duty is a sacred matter for me, the law - I am dumb before the law.” But there was a loophole in the law, and therefore our hero buys “on withdrawal”: lands in the Tauride and Kherson provinces were given for free, just populate it. Resettlement in those years was also going on in the Caucasus region, but Chichikov, answering questions from the chairman of the chamber, lies without blinking an eye that he decided to settle “his peasants” in the Kherson province, they say, the land there is “excellent” and “in sufficient quantity” , there “is a river and a pond”, and the grass there is distinguished by its “growth”...

“To Khersonskaya them! let them live there! But resettlement can be done legally, as follows through the courts. If they want to examine the peasants: perhaps I’m not averse to that, so why not? I will also present a certificate signed by the police captain. The village can be called Chichikova Slobodka or by the name given at baptism: the village of Pavlovskoye,” the hero of “Dead Souls” thought something like this in his mind.

Yes, I would also receive relocation allowances for them. The Caucasian Chamber of State Property paid each peasant who moved from the Voronezh province to the Caucasus region 26 rubles 50 kopecks in silver. A lot of money! So the settlement of Chichikov or the village of Pavlovskoye could have appeared within the boundaries of modern Stavropol.

Of course, Pavel Ivanovich was afraid that some kind of “story” might come out of this. What did he expect when starting his “enterprise”?

“The landowners played cards, went on a spree and squandered themselves; everyone went to St. Petersburg to serve; the estates are abandoned, managed haphazardly, taxes are becoming more difficult to pay every year, so everyone will gladly give them up to me just so as not to pay per capita money for them...”, Chichikov believed.

And “...the subject will seem incredible to everyone, no one will believe it.” Having learned that Chichikov was buying up “dead souls,” neither “the lady is pleasant in all respects” nor “just a pleasant lady” believed it. “The lady, pleasant in all respects,” decided that the purchase of “dead souls” was invented only “for cover,” in fact, Chichikov “wants to take away the governor’s daughter.”

Officials of the provincial city were also not bothered by the fact that 400 souls of peasants - men alone - were purchased for almost 100 thousand rubles. Going through all possible and impossible assumptions, recalling all the illegal deeds, the officials of the provincial city never thought about this side of the purchase. Only Ivan Antonovich Kuvshinnoe Rylo from the serf expedition responded to Chichikov’s request, “Is it possible, for example, to finish the matter today,” answered: “... it’s impossible today. We need to make more inquiries to see if there are any other prohibitions.” “Prohibitions” will appear, but later. From this, apparently, it can be assumed that the transaction took place before 1833. It is also necessary to limit the time of Chichikov’s “enterprise” to 1833 because it was in 1833 that the next, eighth revision, or census of tax-paying classes, primarily the peasantry, began in Russia.

The census of the taxable class of Russia, introduced by Peter I the Great (1672-1725), took place: 1st - in 1722-1724, 2nd - in 1743-1747, 3rd - in 1761-1765, 4th - in 1781-1787, 5th - in 1794-1808, 6th - in 1811-1812, 7th - in 1817-1826, 8th - in 1833-1835. Then there were the 9th in 1850 and the last 10th in 1858-1860. Census sheets were called “revision tales.” They have survived to this day, even if not in full, but they are in almost every regional archive in the central part of Russia. They are also in the State Archive of the Voronezh Region. It was from the Voronezh province that in 1848 settlers who bore the surname Blokhin came to Manych. I found them in the “List of Residents of the Village of Divenskoye” (now the village of Divnoe), stored in the State Archive of the Stavropol Territory. They turned out to be my great-grandfathers and great-great-grandfathers...

According to the census of 1833-1835, the landowners of the province where Chichikov arrived would have crossed out all the dead from the lists of their peasants, and Chichikov would not have had anything to buy. He went for his “goods” when there had been no audit for a long time: the previous, seventh audit took place in 1817-1826. The depiction among the characters of the poem of elected officials of the “Lower Zemstvo Court,” which consisted of the Zemstvo police officer and zemstvo assessors elected by the nobles, convinces that the action took place before 1837, when the “Lower Zemstvo Courts” were abolished. This fact was reflected in the following: Chichikov’s carriage was harnessed to two horses, one of them had the nickname Assessor.

In the life of the roguish hero of “Dead Souls” there was another event that can be quite accurately determined. This is his service in the commission “for the construction of some government-owned, very capital structure,” or in the “commission for the construction of the temple of God,” as it was called in one of the early editions of the poem. This was a commission for the construction of the huge Cathedral of Christ the Savior in Moscow. The scandalous history of theft and bribes, all sorts of abuses by officials of this commission was widely known and caused an audit led by Adjutant General of Nicholas I S.S. Strekalov (1781-1856), carried out “by the highest order” in 1826. Stepan Stepanovich reported to the sovereign that the commission for the construction of the Cathedral of Christ the Savior in Moscow completed its work on April 16, 1827, and its members were brought to trial by the Moscow Criminal Chamber. This high-profile case dragged on for about ten years. To compensate for the damage caused to the treasury, which reached 580 thousand rubles, the estates of the defendants were confiscated. It can be assumed that Chichikov, who, like other members of the “construction commission,” “found himself in possession of a beautiful house of civil architecture,” was removed from office, and his property was transferred to the treasury in 1827, since he was not brought to justice hit. After much trouble, he managed to achieve, with the help of bribes, “the destruction of his sullied record”, and move to another service - to the customs office on the Polish border, approximately in 1828-1829. Gogol does not hide that Pavel Ivanovich had long dreamed of moving to customs, but “they kept the current various benefits from the construction commission.” Now, when both the commission and the benefits were gone, I made up my mind and moved to the customs office. He did not serve there for very long, at least two years - 1828-1830, or 1829-1831, but until January 13, 1831, when the Sejm of Poland “declared the Romanov dynasty deprived of the Polish throne.”

Chichikov “in three or four weeks had already become so skilled in the customs business” that “he was of no use to the smugglers.” “Such zealous and disinterested service could not help but become the subject of general surprise and not finally come to the attention of the authorities”: Chichikov was given a rank, his official salary was increased, his project was approved for how to “catch all the smugglers,” he was given a command and “the unlimited right to carry out all sorts of searches.” " This is just what Pavel Ivanovich was waiting for. If earlier he refused to “sent to bribe”, answering dryly: “It’s not time yet,” but, having received unlimited power, he decided: “Now it’s time.” In one year, Chichikov managed to make a fortune that exceeded 500 thousand rubles, “because he was smarter” than others. For comparison: the annual income of Count Bezukhov from the novel “War and Peace,” who had estates throughout Russia, was also 500 thousand rubles.

But everything was revealed after Chichikov’s quarrel with another customs official, whom he dragged into his “enterprise.” Chichikov called the comrade with whom he was in cahoots “popovich,” but he did not agree, saying that he was “a state councilor, not a popovich, but you are such a popovich.” And in retaliation he sent a secret denunciation “to the right place” against Pavel Ivanovich. A commission arrived, secret relations with the smugglers were discovered, and the loot was confiscated. Both officials were made fools. The “state councilor” drank himself to death out of grief, but the collegiate one, that is, Chichikov, survived, hiding from the investigation ten thousand rubles, two dozen Dutch shirts, a chaise in which bachelors ride, and two serfs - the coachman Selifan and the footman Petrushka.

“Having suffered for the truth” and dodged a criminal trial for tricks at customs, Chichikov, a collegiate adviser by rank, “was forced to take up the title of attorney” (again in Moscow) in 1830-1831, not earlier. His trips and first purchases began in 1831-1832, just before the 1833 revision. This date is confirmed by the words of Chichikov: “And now the time is convenient, recently there was an epidemic, a lot of people died out, thank God...” This, obviously, is said about the terrible cholera epidemic of 1830-1831, which spread throughout Russia.

In the reference book “Stavropol Province in Statistical, Geographical, Historical and Agricultural Relations” by the inspector of public schools A. I. Tvalchrelizde (1854-1930), printed in Stavropol in 1897 in the printing house of M. N. Koritsky, among the information about the villages of the province, “memorable events,” to which the author includes the cholera of 1830.

The hero of “Dead Souls” confidently considers the “enterprise” started by Chichikov to be an honest matter and therefore continues it even after exposure and escape from the provincial town. Frightened that Nozdryov might kill him, Chichikov thinks that if he disappears, he will not leave his future children either a fortune or an honest name: “Why me? Why did trouble befall me? Who's yawning in office now? - everyone buys. I didn’t make anyone unhappy: I didn’t rob the widow, I didn’t let anyone go around the world, I used the excess, I took where anyone would take; If I hadn't used it, others would have. Why do others prosper, and why should I perish as a worm? So what am I now? Where am I fit? With what eyes will I now look into the eyes of every respectable father of the family? How can I not feel remorse, knowing that I am burdening the earth for nothing, and what will my children say later? So, they will say, father, the brute, did not leave us any fortune!”

For Chichikov, an honest name is associated not with honor, but with capital. The desire to “get a penny” has become the meaning of life. His father taught him this from childhood: “If you please your boss, then, even though you don’t have time in science and God hasn’t given you talent, you will put everything into action and get ahead of everyone. Don’t hang out with your comrades, they won’t teach you any good; and if it comes to that, hang out with those who are richer, so that on occasion they can be useful to you... most of all, take care and save a penny: this thing is more reliable than anything in the world. A comrade or friend will deceive you and in trouble will be the first to betray you, but a penny will not betray you, no matter what trouble you are in. You will do everything and you will lose everything in the world with a penny.” Chichikov from a young age followed the behest of his parent.

And as an adult, “when a rich man rushed past him on a beautiful flying droshky, on trotters in a rich harness, he stopped rooted to the spot and then, waking up, as if after a long sleep, said: “But there was a clerk, he wore his hair in a circle!” » A rich man has an honest name, Pavel Ivanovich believed.

Back in 1845, the Russian literary critic and publicist V. G. Belinsky (1811-48) wrote that “Chichikov as acquirer“Pechorina is no less, if not more, a hero of our time” (Belinsky V.G. PSS, 1954. T. IX. - P. 79). And the further the years moved readers away from the time in which the main character of “Dead Souls” lived, the more acutely the “inexhaustible vitality of Gogol’s poem” was felt. In 1861, the story “Molotov” by the Russian writer N. G. Pomyalovsky (1835-63) was published, where he first introduced the concept of “honest Chichikovism.” The main character of his story dreams of “philistine happiness” and sinless acquisition. The manufacturer from the novel by I. S. Turgenev (1818-83) “New”, published in 1877, is also endowed with Gogol’s characteristic: “He takes the skin himself - and he himself says: “Turn on this side, do a favor; there’s still a living place here... We need to clean it out!” There are many similar examples in Russian literature.

No matter how Gogol tried to “hide the scoundrel,” Chichikov emerged from all sorts of situations, which is why he continues his activity as an acquirer with a clear conscience in the 21st century.

Isn’t today’s Russia full of revelations made by schemers in the construction of apartments, the sale of shares, the purchase of cars, the issuance and repayment of loans? In the field of view of law enforcement agencies are heads of departments, general directors, city mayors, governors, bankers, deputies, deputy ministers... The Chichikovs live next to us on all floors of our society, the registration and registration of a dacha plot of land, a car, an apartment, a house depends on them , submission and acceptance of declarations, calculation of pensions... “Profitable places” in modern Russia were occupied by the Molchalins, Khlestakovs, Chichikovs, Zhadovs, Lopakhins, Ostap Benders... Officials in Russia, whose salaries the modern Kremlin authorities worry about day and night, more than during the Soviet Union. This means that Chichikov’s business, from which “a very smoothly chiseled ordinary, neat person” could have emerged if he had not had “the desire to acquire a penny,” lives and wins not only in the capital, but also in the provinces. As soon as a new leader sits in the chair, he forgets about his promises and all his activities are subordinated to one goal - to become rich himself.

Gogol wanted to show “all of Rus'” in his poem. But, starting work on “Dead Souls,” Nikolai Vasilyevich did not imagine that his poem would gain immortality, and that he would predict the fate of Russia for centuries...

Dying, Nicholas I (1796-1855) will tell his son: “In this country, you and I are the only ones who don’t steal.” Hence the wise conclusion of Pushkin’s stingy knight: “Money cannot be trusted to anyone, it must be hidden, always kept with you.”

Well, what happened to the Chichikov case? The answer, gentlemen, readers, look to Gogol. Perhaps even in these words he lies: “... our land is perishing not from the invasion of twenty foreign languages, but from ourselves; that, bypassing the legal government, another government has formed, much stronger than any legal one.”

The scope of predatory entrepreneurship and hoarding in modern Russia has acquired dimensions that even Chichikov could not have dreamed of. Moreover, it crossed the borders of modern Russia. Suffice it to remember what is behind the advertising slogan: “Moscow real estate is always in price!” another, no less attractive one will appear: “Prague real estate is always in price!”

Even the prince, Russian revolutionary, anarchist theorist, geographer and geologist P. A. Kropotkin (1842-1921) noted the international significance of Gogol’s character: “Chichikov can buy dead souls or railway shares, he can collect donations for charitable institutions... It doesn’t matter. He remains an immortal type: you will meet him everywhere; it belongs to all countries and all times: it only takes different forms, according to the conditions of place and time.”

So Chichikov’s case, I think, is not over. “Dead Souls” is an eternal book!

______________________

Blokhin Nikolay Fedorovich

A rather beautiful little spring chaise, in which bachelors travel: retired lieutenant colonels, staff captains, landowners with about a hundred peasant souls - in a word, all those who are called middle-class gentlemen, drove into the gates of the hotel in the provincial town of NN. In the chaise sat a gentleman, not handsome, but not bad-looking either, neither too fat nor too thin; One cannot say that he is old, but not that he is too young. His entry made absolutely no noise in the city and was not accompanied by anything special; only two Russian men, standing at the door of the tavern opposite the hotel, made some comments, which, however, related more to the carriage than to those sitting in it. “Look,” one said to the other, “what a wheel! What do you think, if that wheel happened, would it get to Moscow or not?” “It will get there,” answered the other. “But I don’t think he’ll get to Kazan?” “He won’t get to Kazan,” answered another. That was the end of the conversation. Moreover, when the chaise pulled up to the hotel, he met a young man in white rosin trousers, very narrow and short, in a tailcoat with attempts at fashion, from under which a shirtfront was visible, fastened with a Tula pin with a bronze pistol. The young man turned back, looked at the carriage, held his cap with his hand, which was almost blown off by the wind, and went his way.

When the carriage entered the yard, the gentleman was greeted by the tavern servant, or floor servant, as they are called in Russian taverns, lively and fidgety to such an extent that it was impossible to even see what kind of face he had. He ran out quickly, with a napkin in his hand, all long and in a long tartan frock coat with the back almost at the very back of his head, shook his hair and quickly led the gentleman up the entire wooden gallery to show the peace bestowed upon him by God. The peace was of a certain kind, for the hotel was also of a certain kind, that is, exactly the same as there are hotels in provincial towns, where for two rubles a day travelers get a quiet room with cockroaches peeking out like prunes from all corners, and a door to the next one. a room always filled with a chest of drawers, where a neighbor settles down, a silent and calm person, but extremely curious, interested in knowing about all the details of the person passing by. The outer façade of the hotel corresponded to its interior: it was very long, two floors; the lower one was not polished and remained in dark red bricks, darkened even more by the wild weather changes and rather dirty in themselves; the top one was painted with eternal yellow paint; below there were benches with clamps, ropes and steering wheels. In the corner of these shops, or, better yet, in the window, there was a knocker with a samovar made of red copper and a face as red as the samovar, so that from a distance one would think that there were two samovars standing on the window, if one samovar was not with pitch black beard.

While the visiting gentleman was looking around his room, his belongings were brought in: first of all, a suitcase made of white leather, somewhat worn, showing that he was not on the road for the first time. The suitcase was brought in by the coachman Selifan, a short man in a sheepskin coat, and the footman Petrushka, a fellow of about thirty, in a spacious second-hand frock coat, as seen from the master's shoulder, a little stern in appearance, with very large lips and nose. Following the suitcase was a small mahogany casket with individual displays made of Karelian birch, shoe lasts and a fried chicken wrapped in blue paper. When all this was brought in, the coachman Selifan went to the stable to tinker with the horses, and the footman Petrushka began to settle down in the small front, very dark kennel, where he had already managed to drag his overcoat and with it some kind of his own smell, which was communicated to the one brought followed by a bag of various servants' toiletries. In this kennel he fitted a narrow three-legged bed to the wall, covering it with a small semblance of a mattress, dead and flat as a pancake, and perhaps as oily as the pancake that he managed to demand from the innkeeper.

While the servants were managing and fiddling around, the master went to the common room. What kind of common halls there are, anyone passing by knows very well: the same walls, painted with oil paint, darkened at the top from pipe smoke and stained below with the backs of various travelers, and even more so with native merchants, for merchants came here on trade days in full swing. - let’s all drink our famous pair of tea; the same smoke-stained ceiling; the same smoked chandelier with many hanging pieces of glass that jumped and tinkled every time the floor boy ran across the worn oilcloths, briskly waving a tray on which sat the same abyss of tea cups, like birds on the seashore; the same paintings covering the entire wall, painted with oil paints - in a word, everything is the same as everywhere else; the only difference is that one painting depicted a nymph with such huge breasts, which the reader has probably never seen. Such a play of nature, however, happens in various historical paintings, it is unknown at what time, from where and by whom, brought to us in Russia, sometimes even by our nobles, art lovers, who bought them in Italy on the advice of the couriers who carried them. The gentleman took off his cap and unwound from his neck a woolen scarf of rainbow colors, the kind that the wife prepares for married people with her own hands, providing decent instructions on how to wrap themselves up, and for single people - I probably can’t say who makes them, God knows, I’ve never worn such scarves . Having unwound his scarf, the gentleman ordered dinner to be served. While he was served various dishes common in taverns, such as: cabbage soup with puff pastry, specially saved for travelers for several weeks, brains with peas, sausages and cabbage, fried poulard, pickled cucumber and the eternal sweet puff pastry, always ready to serve ; While all this was being served to him, both heated and simply cold, he forced the servant, or sexton, to tell all sorts of nonsense about who previously ran the inn and who now, and how much income he gives, and whether their owner is a big scoundrel; to which the sexton, as usual, replied: “Oh, big, sir, swindler.” Both in enlightened Europe and in enlightened Russia there are now very many respectable people who cannot eat in a tavern without talking to the servant, and sometimes even making a funny joke at his expense. However, the visitor was not all asking empty questions; he asked with extreme precision who the governor of the city was, who the chairman of the chamber was, who the prosecutor was - in a word, he did not miss a single significant official; but with even greater accuracy, if not even with sympathy, he asked about all the significant landowners: how many peasant souls do they have, how far they live from the city, what their character is and how often they come to the city; He asked carefully about the state of the region: were there any diseases in their province - epidemic fevers, any killer fevers, smallpox and the like, and everything was so thorough and with such accuracy that it showed more than just simple curiosity. The gentleman had something dignified in his manners and blew his nose extremely loudly. It is not known how he did it, but his nose sounded like a trumpet. This apparently completely innocent dignity acquired, however, a lot of respect for him from the inn servant, so that every time he heard this sound, he shook his hair, straightened up more respectfully and, bending his head from on high, asked: is it necessary? what? After dinner, the gentleman drank a cup of coffee and sat down on the sofa, placing a pillow behind his back, which in Russian taverns, instead of elastic wool, is stuffed with something extremely similar to brick and cobblestone. Then he began to yawn and ordered to be taken to his room, where he lay down and fell asleep for two hours. Having rested, he wrote on a piece of paper, at the request of the tavern servant, his rank, first and last name for reporting to the appropriate place, to the police. On a piece of paper, going down the stairs, I read the following from the warehouses: “Collegiate adviser Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov, landowner, according to his needs.” When the floor guard was still sorting out the note from the warehouses, Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov himself went to see the city, which he seemed to be satisfied with, for he found that the city was in no way inferior to other provincial cities: the yellow paint on the stone houses was very striking and the gray paint was modestly darkening on wooden ones. The houses had one, two and one and a half floors, with an eternal mezzanine, very beautiful, in the opinion of the provincial architects. In some places these houses seemed lost among a street as wide as a field and endless wooden fences; in some places they huddled together, and here the movement of people and liveliness was more noticeable. There were signs almost washed away by the rain with pretzels and boots, in some places with painted blue trousers and the signature of some Arshavian tailor; where is a store with caps, caps and the inscription: “Foreigner Vasily Fedorov”; where there was a drawing of billiards with two players in tailcoats, the kind that guests in our theaters wear when they enter the stage in the last act. The players were depicted with their cues aimed, their arms turned slightly backwards and their legs slanted, having just made an entrechat in the air. Underneath it all was written: “And here is the establishment.” In some places there were tables simply on the street with nuts, soap and gingerbread cookies that looked like soap; where is the tavern with a fat fish painted and a fork stuck into it. Most often, the darkened, double-headed state eagles were noticeable, which have now been replaced by the laconic inscription: “Drinking house.” The pavement was pretty bad everywhere. He also looked into the city garden, which consisted of thin trees, badly grown, with supports below, in the form of triangles, very beautifully painted with green oil paint. However, although these trees were no taller than reeds, it was said about them in the newspapers when describing the illumination that “our city was decorated, thanks to the care of the civil ruler, with a garden consisting of shady, wide-branched trees, giving coolness on a hot day,” and that when In this case, “it was very touching to see how the hearts of the citizens trembled in an abundance of gratitude and flowed streams of tears as a sign of gratitude to the mayor.” Having asked the guard in detail where he could go closer, if necessary, to the cathedral, to public places, to the governor, he went to look at the river flowing in the middle of the city, on the way he tore off a poster nailed to a post, so that when he came home he could read it thoroughly, looked intently at a lady of good appearance walking along the wooden sidewalk, followed by a boy in military livery, with a bundle in his hand, and, once again looking around everything with his eyes, as if in order to clearly remember the position of the place, he went home straight to his room, supported lightly on the stairs by a tavern servant. Having had some tea, he sat down in front of the table, ordered a candle to be brought to him, took a poster out of his pocket, brought it to the candle and began to read, squinting his right eye slightly. However, there was little remarkable in the playbill: the drama was given by Mr. Kotzebue, in which Rolla was played by Mr. Poplyovin, Cora was played by the maiden Zyablova, other characters were even less remarkable; however, he read them all, even got to the price of the stalls and found out that the poster was printed in the printing house of the provincial government, then he turned it over to the other side to find out if there was anything there, but, not finding anything, he rubbed his eyes and turned neatly and put it in his little chest, where he was in the habit of putting everything he came across. The day, it seems, was concluded with a portion of cold veal, a bottle of sour cabbage soup and a sound sleep in full swing, as they say in other parts of the vast Russian state.

The entire next day was devoted to visits; the visitor went to make visits to all the city dignitaries. He visited with respect the governor, who, as it turned out, like Chichikov, was neither fat nor thin, had Anna around his neck, and it was even rumored that he was presented to the star; however, he was a great good-natured man and sometimes even embroidered on tulle himself. Then he went to the vice-governor, then he visited the prosecutor, the chairman of the chamber, the police chief, the tax farmer, the head of state-owned factories... it’s a pity that it is somewhat difficult to remember all the powers that be; but suffice it to say that the visitor showed extraordinary activity regarding visits: he even came to pay his respects to the inspector of the medical board and the city architect. And then he sat in the chaise for a long time, trying to figure out who else he could pay the visit to, but there were no other officials in the city. In conversations with these rulers, he very skillfully knew how to flatter everyone. He somehow hinted in passing to the governor that entering his province is like entering paradise, the roads are velvet everywhere, and that those governments that appoint wise dignitaries are worthy of great praise. He said something very flattering to the police chief about the city guards; and in conversations with the vice-governor and the chairman of the chamber, who were still only state councilors, he even said twice in error: “Your Excellency,” which they liked very much. The consequence of this was that the governor extended an invitation to him to come to his house that same day, and other officials, for their part, too, some for lunch, some for a Boston party, some for a cup of tea.

The visitor seemed to avoid talking much about himself; if he spoke, then in some general places, with noticeable modesty, and his conversation in such cases took somewhat bookish turns: that he was an insignificant worm of this world and did not deserve to be cared for much, that he had experienced a lot in his life, suffered in the service for the truth, had many enemies who even attempted his life, and that now, wanting to calm down, he was finally looking to choose a place to live, and that, having arrived in this city, he considered it an indispensable duty to pay his respects to its first dignitaries. That's all that the city learned about this new face, who very soon did not fail to show himself at the governor's party. Preparations for this party took more than two hours, and here the visitor showed such attentiveness to the toilet, which is not even seen everywhere. After a short afternoon nap, he ordered to be washed and rubbed both cheeks with soap for an extremely long time, propping them up from the inside with his tongue; then, taking a towel from the inn servant’s shoulder, he wiped his plump face from all sides with it, starting from behind his ears and first snorting twice or twice into the inn servant’s very face. Then he put on his shirtfront in front of the mirror, plucked out two hairs that had come out of his nose, and immediately after that he found himself in a lingonberry-colored tailcoat with a sparkle. Thus dressed, he rode in his own carriage along the endlessly wide streets, illuminated by the meager lighting from the flickering windows here and there. However, the governor's house was so lit, even if only for a ball; a carriage with lanterns, two gendarmes in front of the entrance, postilions shouting in the distance - in a word, everything is as it should be. Entering the hall, Chichikov had to close his eyes for a minute, because the shine from the candles, lamps and ladies' dresses was terrible. Everything was flooded with light. Black tailcoats flashed and rushed separately and in heaps here and there, like flies rush on white shining refined sugar during the hot July summer, when the old housekeeper chops and divides it into sparkling fragments in front of the open window; the children are all looking, gathered around, curiously following the movements of her hard hands, raising the hammer, and aerial squadrons of flies, raised by the light air, fly in boldly, like complete masters, and, taking advantage of the old woman’s blindness and the sun disturbing her eyes, sprinkle tidbits where scattered, where in thick heaps. Sated by the rich summer, which already lays out tasty dishes at every turn, they flew in not at all to eat, but just to show off, walk back and forth on the sugar heap, rub their hind or front legs one against the other, or scratch them under your wings, or, stretching out both front legs, rub them over your head, turn around and fly away again, and fly again with new annoying squadrons. Before Chichikov had time to look around, he was already grabbed by the arm by the governor, who immediately introduced him to the governor’s wife. The visiting guest did not let himself down here either: he said some kind of compliment, quite decent for a middle-aged man with a rank neither too high nor too low. When the established pairs of dancers pressed everyone against the wall, he, with his hands behind him, looked at them very carefully for two minutes. Many ladies were well dressed and in fashion, others dressed in whatever God sent them to the provincial city. The men here, as everywhere else, were of two kinds: some thin, who kept hovering around the ladies; some of them were of such a type that it was difficult to distinguish them from those from St. Petersburg, they also had very deliberately and tastefully combed sideburns or simply beautiful, very smoothly shaven oval faces, they also sat casually next to the ladies, and they also spoke French and they made the ladies laugh just like in St. Petersburg. Another class of men were fat or the same as Chichikov, that is, not too fat, but not thin either. These, on the contrary, looked askance and backed away from the ladies and only looked around to see if the governor’s servant was setting up a green whist table somewhere. Their faces were full and round, some even had warts, some were pockmarked, they did not wear their hair on their heads in crests, curls, or in a “damn me” manner, as the French say - their hair They were either cut low or sleek, and their facial features were more rounded and strong. These were honorary officials in the city. Alas! fat people know how to manage their affairs in this world better than thin people. The thin ones serve more on special assignments or are just registered and wander here and there; their existence is somehow too easy, airy and completely unreliable. Fat people never occupy indirect places, but always straight ones, and if they sit somewhere, they will sit securely and firmly, so that the place will sooner crack and bend under them, and they will not fly off. They do not like external shine; the tailcoat on them is not as cleverly tailored as on the thin ones, but in the boxes there is the grace of God. At three years old, the thin one does not have a single soul left that is not pawned in a pawnshop; the fat man was calm, lo and behold, a house appeared somewhere at the end of the city, bought in his wife’s name, then at the other end another house, then a village near the city, then a village with all the land. Finally, the fat man, having served God and the sovereign, having earned universal respect, leaves the service, moves over and becomes a landowner, a glorious Russian gentleman, a hospitable man, and lives and lives well. And after him, again, the thin heirs, according to Russian custom, send all their father’s goods by courier. It cannot be concealed that almost this kind of reflection occupied Chichikov at the time when he was looking at society, and the consequence of this was that he finally joined the fat ones, where he met almost all familiar faces: a prosecutor with very black thick eyebrows and a somewhat winking left eye as if he were saying: “Let’s go, brother, to another room, there I’ll tell you something,” - a man, however, serious and silent; the postmaster, a short man, but a wit and a philosopher; Chairman of the House, a very reasonable and amiable man - who all greeted him as an old acquaintance, to which he bowed somewhat to the side, however, not without pleasantness. He immediately met the very courteous and polite landowner Manilov and the somewhat clumsy-looking Sobakevich, who stepped on his foot the first time, saying: “I beg your pardon.” They immediately handed him a whist card, which he accepted with the same polite bow. They sat down at the green table and did not get up until dinner. All conversations stopped completely, as always happens when they finally indulge in something meaningful. Although the postmaster was very talkative, he, having taken the cards in his hands, immediately expressed a thinking physiognomy on his face, covered his lower lip with his upper lip and maintained this position throughout the game. Coming out of the figure, he hit the table firmly with his hand, saying, if there was a lady: “Get off, you old priest!”, and if there was a king: “Get off, Tambov man!” And the chairman said: “I’ll hit him with a mustache!” And I hit her on the mustache!” Sometimes, when the cards hit the table, expressions would burst out: “Ah! was not there, for no reason, just with a tambourine! Or simply exclamations: “worms! worm-hole! picencia!” or: “Pikendras! pichurushuh! pichura!” and even simply: “pichuk!” - the names with which they baptized the suits in their society. At the end of the game they argued, as usual, quite loudly. Our visiting guest also argued, but somehow extremely skillfully, so that everyone saw that he was arguing, and yet he was arguing pleasantly. He never said: “you went,” but: “you deigned to go,” “I had the honor to cover your deuce,” and the like. In order to further agree on something with his opponents, he each time presented them all with his silver and enamel snuff-box, at the bottom of which they noticed two violets, placed there for the smell. The visitor's attention was especially occupied by the landowners Manilov and Sobakevich, who were mentioned above. He immediately inquired about them, immediately calling several of them to the side of the chairman and the postmaster. Several questions he asked showed the guest not only curiosity, but also thoroughness; for first of all he asked how many peasant souls each of them had and in what position their estates were, and then he inquired about their name and patronymic. In a short time he completely managed to charm them. The landowner Manilov, not yet an old man at all, who had eyes as sweet as sugar and squinted them every time he laughed, was crazy about him. He shook his hand for a very long time and asked him to earnestly honor him by coming to the village, which, according to him, was only fifteen miles from the city outpost. To which Chichikov, with a very polite bow of his head and a sincere handshake, replied that he was not only very willing to do this, but would even consider it a most sacred duty. Sobakevich also said somewhat laconically: “And I ask you to come to me,” shuffling his foot, shod in a boot of such a gigantic size, for which one can hardly find a corresponding foot anywhere, especially at the present time, when heroes are beginning to emerge in Rus'.

The next day Chichikov went for lunch and evening to the police chief, where from three o'clock in the afternoon they sat down to whist and played until two o'clock in the morning. There, by the way, he met the landowner Nozdryov, a man of about thirty, a broken fellow, who after three or four words began to say “you” to him. Nozdryov was also on first name terms with the police chief and the prosecutor and treated him in a friendly manner; but when they sat down to play the big game, the police chief and the prosecutor examined his bribes extremely carefully and watched almost every card he played with. The next day Chichikov spent the evening with the chairman of the chamber, who received his guests in a dressing gown, somewhat oily, including two ladies. Then I was at an evening with the vice-governor, at a big dinner with the tax farmer, at a small dinner with the prosecutor, which, however, was worth a lot; at the after-mass snack given by the mayor, which was also worth lunch. In a word, he never had to stay at home for a single hour, and he came to the hotel only to fall asleep. The newcomer somehow knew how to find himself in everything and showed himself to be an experienced socialite. Whatever the conversation was about, he always knew how to support it: whether it was about a horse factory, he talked about a horse factory; were they talking about good dogs, and here he made very practical remarks; whether they interpreted the investigation carried out by the treasury chamber, he showed that he was not unaware of the judicial tricks; whether there was a discussion about the billiard game - and in the billiard game he did not miss; they talked about virtue, and he talked about virtue very well, even with tears in his eyes; about making hot wine, and he knew the use of hot wine; about customs overseers and officials, and he judged them as if he himself were both an official and an overseer. But it’s remarkable that he knew how to dress it all up with some kind of sedateness, he knew how to behave well. He spoke neither loudly nor quietly, but absolutely as he should. In a word, no matter where you turn, he was a very decent person. All officials were pleased with the arrival of a new person. The governor explained about him that he was a well-intentioned person; the prosecutor - that he is a sensible person; the gendarme colonel said that he was a learned man; the chairman of the chamber - that he is a knowledgeable and respectable person; the police chief - that he is a respectable and kind man; the police chief's wife - that he is the most kind and courteous person. Even Sobakevich himself, who rarely spoke kindly of anyone, arrived quite late from the city and had already completely undressed and lay down on the bed next to his thin wife, said to her: “I, darling, was at the governor’s party, and at the police chief’s. had lunch and met the collegiate adviser Pavel Ivanovich Chichikov: a pleasant person! “To which the wife answered: “Hm!” - and pushed him with her foot.

This opinion, very flattering for the guest, was formed about him in the city, and it was maintained until one strange property of the guest and the enterprise, or, as they say in the provinces, a passage about which the reader will soon learn, led almost to complete bewilderment. the whole city.

Part 1

Read the fragment of text below and complete tasks B1-B7;C1-C2.

The visitor seemed to avoid talking much about himself; if he spoke, then in some general places, with noticeable modesty, and his conversation in such cases took somewhat bookish turns: that he was an insignificant worm of this world and was not worthy of being cared for much, that he had experienced a lot in his life, endured in the service of truth, he had many enemies who even attempted his life, and that now, wanting to calm down, he was finally looking to choose a place to live, and that, having arrived in this city, he considered it an indispensable duty to pay his respects to its first dignitaries. That's all that the city learned about this new face, who very soon did not fail to show himself at the governor's party. Preparations for this party took more than two hours, and here the visitor showed such attentiveness to the toilet, which is not even seen everywhere. After a short afternoon nap, he ordered to be washed and rubbed both cheeks with soap for an extremely long time, propping them up from the inside with his tongue; then, taking a towel from the inn servant’s shoulder, he wiped his plump face from all sides with it, starting from behind his ears and first snorting twice or twice into the inn servant’s very face. Then he put on his shirtfront in front of the mirror, plucked out two hairs that had come out of his nose, and immediately after that he found himself in a lingonberry-colored tailcoat with a sparkle. Thus dressed, he rode in his own carriage along the endlessly wide streets, illuminated by the meager lighting from the flickering windows here and there. However, the governor's house was so lit, even if only for a ball; a carriage with lanterns, two gendarmes in front of the entrance, postilions shouting in the distance - in a word, everything is as it should be. Entering the hall, Chichikov had to close his eyes for a minute, because the shine from the candles, lamps and ladies' dresses was terrible. Everything was flooded with light. Black tailcoats flashed and rushed separately and in heaps here and there, like flies scamper on white shining refined sugar during the hot July summer, when the old housekeeper chops and divides it into sparkling fragments in front of the open window; the children are all looking, gathered around, curiously following the movements of her hard hands, raising the hammer, and aerial squadrons of flies, raised by the light air, fly in boldly, like complete masters, and, taking advantage of the old woman’s blindness and the sun disturbing her eyes, sprinkle tidbits where scattered, where in thick heaps.

N.V. Gogol, “Dead Souls”

When completing tasks B1-B7, the answer must be given in the form of a word or combination of words.

B1. Name the genre of the work from which the given fragment is taken.

B2. Indicate the direction in literature to which Gogol’s work belongs, characterized by a reflection of the laws of life, the relationship between man and the environment, the hero and the time in which he lives.

Answer: ___________________________________________________

B3. What are the names of significant details that characterize the inner essence of the hero: “Then he put on his shirtfront in front of the mirror, plucked out two hairs that had come out of his nose, and immediately after that he found himself in a lingonberry-colored tailcoat with a sparkle”?

Answer: ___________________________________________________

Q4. Indicate the name of the artistic device used by Gogol: “Black tailcoats flashed and rushed separately and in heaps here and there, like flies rushing on white shining refined sugar during the hot July summer...”

Answer: ___________________________________________________

B5. Indicate the name of the trope used by Gogol in the same phrase: “Black tailcoats flashed and rushed separately and in heaps here and there, like flies scampering on white shining refined sugar during the hot July summer...”

Answer: ___________________________________________________

B6. What is the name of the figurative definition that serves as a means of artistic expression: “Thus dressed, he rode in his own carriage along the endlessly wide streets, illuminated by the meager lighting from flickering windows here and there”?

Answer: ___________________________________________________

Q7. What means of allegorical expressiveness was used by Gogol: “air squadrons of flies”?

Answer: ___________________________________________________

To complete tasks C1-C2, give a coherent answer to the question in 5-10 sentences.

C1. What comic techniques and for what purpose are used by Gogol in the given fragment?

C2. Which works of Russian classics depict the life and customs of a district town, and what makes these works similar to Gogol’s “Dead Souls”?

Part 2

Read the poem below and complete tasks B8-B12; C3-C4.

Troika

Why are you looking greedily at the road?

Away from your cheerful friends?

You know, my heart sounded alarmed -

Your whole face suddenly flushed.

And why are you running hastily?

Following the rushing troika?..

At you, beautifully akimbo,

A passing cornet looked up.

It's no wonder to look at you,

Anyone wouldn't mind loving you:

The scarlet ribbon curls playfully

In your hair black as night;

Light fluff breaks through,

From under your semicircular eyebrow

The sly little eye looks smartly.

One glance of a black-browed savage,

Full of spells that set the blood on fire,

The old man will be ruined for gifts,

Love will rush into the young man's heart.

You will live and celebrate to your heart's content,

Life will be full and easy...

But that’s not what befell you:

You'll marry a man for a slob.

Having tied an apron under the arms,

You will tighten your ugly breasts,

Your picky husband will beat you

And my mother-in-law will die to death.

From work both menial and difficult

You will fade before you have time to bloom,

You will fall into a deep sleep,

You will babysit, work and eat.

And in your face, full of movement,

Full of life - will suddenly appear

An expression of dull patience

And senseless, eternal fear.

And they will bury you in a damp grave,

How will you go through your difficult path,

Uselessly extinguished strength

And an unwarmed chest.

Don't look longingly at the road

And don’t rush after the troika,

And sad anxiety in my heart

Hurry up and shut it down forever!

You won't be able to catch up with the crazy three:

The horses are strong, and well-fed, and spirited, -

And the coachman was drunk, and to the other

A young cornet rushes like a whirlwind...

N. A. Nekrasov, 1846

When completing tasks B8-B12, the answer must be given in the form of a word or combination of words.

B8. What is the name of the question that does not require an answer, used by Nekrasov as a stylistic figure at the beginning of the first and second stanzas?

Answer: ___________________________________________________

Q9. Indicate the name of one of the means of psychological characterization of the hero, based on the image of his appearance:

Through the blush of your dark cheek

Light fluff breaks through,

(1) Entering the hall, Chichikov had to close his eyes for a minute, because the shine from the candles, lamps and ladies' dresses was terrible. (2) Everything was flooded with light... (3) Black tailcoats flashed and rushed separately and in heaps here and there, like flies scampering on white shining refined sugar during the hot July summer. (4) The men here, as everywhere else, were of two kinds: some thin, who all hung around the ladies; some of them were of such a kind that it was difficult to distinguish them from St. Petersburg, they also had very deliberately and tastefully combed sideburns or simply handsome, very clean-shaven oval faces, sat down just as casually next to the ladies, spoke French the same way and made the ladies laugh just as in St. Petersburg. (5) Another class of men were fat or the same as Chichikov, that is, not too fat, but not thin either. (6) These, on the contrary, looked askance and backed away from the ladies and looked around to see if the governor’s servant had placed a green whist table somewhere. (7) Their faces were full and round, ... they did not wear their hair on their heads either in crests, or curls, or in a “damn me” manner, as the French say - their hair was either cut low or slicked , and facial features are more rounded and strong. (8) These were respectable officials in the city. (9) Alas! fat people know how to manage their affairs better than thin ones. (Y) The thin ones serve more on special assignments or are just registered and wander here and there; their existence is somehow too easy, airy and unreliable. (N) Fat people never occupy indirect places, but all straight ones, and if they sit somewhere, they will sit firmly and securely, so that the place will sooner crack and bend under them, and they will not fly off.

(12) They don’t like external shine; Their tailcoat is not as cleverly tailored as the thin ones, but the grace of God is in their boxes. (13) At three years old, the thin one will not have a single soul left that is not pawned in a pawnshop; the fat man was calm, lo and behold, a house appeared somewhere at the end of the city, bought in his wife’s name, then at the other end another house, then a village near the city, then a village with all the land. (14) Finally, the fat man, having served God and the sovereign, having earned universal respect, leaves the service, moves over and becomes a landowner, a glorious Russian gentleman, a hospitable man, and lives and lives well. (15) And after him, again, the thin heirs, according to Russian custom, send all their father’s goods by courier. (16) It cannot be concealed that almost this kind of thinking occupied Chichikov at the time when he was considering society, and the consequence of this was that he finally joined the fat ones.

(N.V. Gogol)

Composition

The problem of the impoverishment of the soul for the sake of money-grubbing and embezzlement is, alas, a byword for our society. Also N.V. Gogol, depicting “thin and fat” officials at the governor’s ball, noticed that there were no decent people among either of them. And if the “thin” ones are all running around and fussing, then “the fat ones... never occupy indirect places, ... and if they sit somewhere, they will sit firmly and securely, so that the place will most likely crack and bend under them, and they will They won’t fly off.” Using their official position, the “fat” acquire carriages, houses and villages, without particularly caring about the aspirations of the people. That’s why Chichikov joined the “fat people” because the goal of his life was also to make a fortune at any cost. Everything that was best in his nature: intelligence, intelligence, enterprise, perseverance in achieving goals - died in a scam with dead souls. But we don’t feel sorry for Chichikov, but for our long-suffering

a people who have endured and still endure bureaucratic permissiveness and impunity.

The author's position is clear to everyone. And I am outraged by the injustice on the part of those in power, when some are allowed everything, while others only suffer from it. It’s not for nothing that a proverb appeared among the people: “The law is that whatever the drawbar is, where it turns, it ends up there.” We are trying to build a fair rule-of-law state, but so far it has not been very successful.

Our literature has been alarmingly sounding the alarm bell on this issue for almost a century. The Gogol baton was picked up by A.P. Chekhov, who not only lived at a turning point in our economy, but also, using the example of his own family (his grandfather was a peasant, and his father considered himself a merchant), could observe how “a penny saves the ruble,” but kills sympathy, goodwill, and decency. Everyone knows the fact that Antosha’s father severely beat him for his boots that were torn at the skating rink. In the pursuit of profit, tenderness, affection, love, and compassion are lost.

In the story by A.P. Chekhov's "Ionych" we see how Dmitry Ionovich Startsev from a zemstvo doctor, not devoid of romance and subtly feeling not only human pain, but also falsehood, turns into a plump, red, obese gentleman with a triple, “not a man, but a pagan god,” how the author sneers at his hero. And it all started with a seemingly harmless dream - to have your own crew. The vulnerable and shy Startsev becomes the unceremonious Ionych, and this metamorphosis happened to the hero due to the fact that the material began to dominate over the spiritual.

In the play by A.P. Chekhov's “The Cherry Orchard” represents the type of “new masters of life” by Ermolai Alekseevich Lopakhin. At the auction, he buys back the mortgaged estate of the Ranevskys, where his father was a serf, so that, having divided it into plots, he could sell the land for dachas and enrich himself. He experiences warm feelings for Ranevskaya, love for Varya, but, driven by the idea of ​​money-grubbing, he refuses these feelings. Unhappy

not only the Ranevskys, Firs is unhappy, who was forgotten in a boarded-up house, Russia is unhappy, which was given into the hands of such entrepreneurs as Lopakhin. And to this day, such Lopakhins continue to “tear apart” the cherry orchards, not caring either about preserving historical memory, or about family values, or about the happiness of the disadvantaged and homeless.

It’s sad to see similar pictures in our time, but, alas, paradoxically, we are still ruled by officials, under whom “the place will soon crack and become oppressed.”<...>, and they won’t fly off.”

The Problem of the Purpose of Poetry

(1) The concepts of “bad” and “good” poetry belong to the most personal, subjective and, therefore, the most controversial categories. (2) It is no coincidence that the theorists of the 18th century introduced the concept of “taste” - a complex combination of knowledge, skill and intuition, innate talent.

(3) First of all, it is necessary to emphasize the historical limitations of these definitions: what seems “good” from one historical perspective may seem “bad” in another era from another point of view. (4) Young Turgenev, a man with a finely developed poetic feeling, admired Benediktov, Chernyshevsky considered Fet, one of L.N.’s favorite poets. Tolstoy is a model of nonsense, believing that in terms of the degree of absurdity only the geometry of Lobachevsky can be compared with him. (5) Cases when poetry seems “good” from one point of view, and “bad” from another point of view,

(6) What is the reason for this? (7) In order to understand this, it is necessary to keep in mind the following: we consider poetry as a kind of secondary language. (8) However, there is a significant difference between artistic languages ​​and the primary, natural language: speaking Russian well means speaking it correctly, that is, speaking in accordance with certain rules. (9) Speaking Russian, we can learn an infinite amount of new information, but the Russian language is assumed to be already known to us so much that we stop noticing it. (Y) There should be no linguistic surprises in the normal act of speaking. (11) In poetry, the situation is different - its very structure is informative and should always be felt as non-automatic.

(12) Good poems, poems that carry poetic information, are poems in which all elements are expected and unexpected at the same time. (13) Violation of the first principle will make the text meaningless, the second - trivial. (14) Only texts that are highly informative for it can perform the function of “good poetry” in a particular cultural system. (15) And this implies a conflict with the reader’s expectations, tension, struggle, and ultimately the imposition on the reader of some more significant artistic system than the usual. (16) But, defeating the reader, the writer undertakes to move on. (17) The winning innovation turns into a template and loses its information content. (18) Innovation is not always about inventing something new. (19) Innovation is a significant attitude towards tradition, at the same time restoring the memory of it and discrepancy with it.

(20) The goal of poetry, of course, is not “techniques,” but knowledge of the world and communication between people, self-knowledge, self-construction of the human personality in the process of cognition... (21) A poetic text is powerful and deeply dialectical

a mechanism for searching for truth, interpreting the world around us and orienting ourselves in it. (22) Ultimately, the goal of poetry coincides with the goal of culture as a whole. (23) But poetry realizes this goal specifically, and understanding this specificity is impossible if you ignore its mechanism, its

internal structure.

(Yu. Lotman)

Composition

There are people who understand simple, informative texts better, without pretentiousness or a confusing plot. But people with a rich imagination and developed imagination are not content with primitive art; they need high poetry, in which they themselves will find a place for co-creation. The views on art of these two categories are absolutely opposite, but it is from subjective opinion that public opinion is formed.

This is exactly what the famous literary critic Y. Lotman talks about in this text. The author raises the problem of true poetry, which should not be too simple and too pretentious. Y. Lotman believes that ideal poetry is one that maintains a balance between the “expected” and the “unexpected”.

The author’s position is clear and close to me, I share the opinion of the famous literary critic. Indeed, in the pursuit of simplicity and clarity of verse, sometimes the magic, the magic of the poetic word is lost. And vice versa, if the poet is attracted by the form and not the content, it is difficult to call such poems “good” poetry.

Y. Lotman's text mentions the name A.A. Feta. Together with F.I. Tyutchev, A.N. Maykov, Ya.P. Polonsky, A.K. Tolstoy ranked him among the ideologically conservative movement, which was called “pure art” by Russian criticism in the 1950s. It was perceived negatively by revolutionary-minded society, and this

contributed to the opinion of N.A. Nekrasov and V.G. Belinsky. But the poets of this group were confident that poetry should be above temporary ideas, it should talk about eternal values ​​- about love, about nature, about man, his soul, about God. And they turned out to be right. Revolutions, wars, social and natural disasters passed, and the poetry of F.I. Tyutcheva, A.A. Feta has not lost its relevance. Let’s take, for example, Tyutchev’s famous:

Not what you think, nature... Not a cast, not a soulless face - It has a soul, it has freedom, It has love, it has language...

By the way, Alexei Tolstoy, who was laughed at because he ignored the ideas of the Social Democrats, was part of a group of writers who called themselves Kozma Prutkov. And every reading citizen of Russia knows how the satirical pen of officials and embezzlers touched him!

At the beginning of the 20th century, the “Budet people” threw Pushkin and Dostoevsky “from the ship of modernity” and began to write poetry in a new way. In the pursuit of form, not only the magic of poetry was lost, but also all content in general. Everyone remembers the poems of the experimenter in the field of word creation and “brain” V. Khlebnikov:

Oh, laugh, you laughers! Oh, laugh, you laughers! That they laugh with laughter, That they laugh with laughter, Oh, laugh with laughter!

I don’t want to say that these are “bad” poems, but there is nothing for the soul in them. This is probably why very soon they became just a sign of a historical era, and Pushkin and Dostoevsky returned to the reader. D. Kharms, ironically, wrote the following dedication to V. Khlebnikov:

Velimir sits with his legs crossed. He's alive. All.

It seems to me that this is the most vivid assessment of futurist poetry. But V.V. Mayakovsky remains with us without exaggeration, because in his lyrics he managed to find a balance between an unusual form dictated by new times and truths as old as the world.

To be a real poet means to have, as M. Voloshin said, God's spark and a special talent to feel, experience, see the same way as all other people, but a little more than them. Then the poetry will be “good.”