Roly bugs to grandfather's village summary. History of the creation of the work

Probably many of us have heard the aphorism “to grandfather’s village.” But not everyone knows that the author of this legendary phrase is Anton Pavlovich Chekhov, who used it in his sad but instructive story “Vanka”.

History of the creation of the work

The story “Vanka” came from the pen of A.P. Chekhov in 1886, was published on December 25 in the Petersburg Newspaper (section “Christmas Stories”) and signed with the pseudonym A. Chekhonte. During the author’s lifetime, the story “Vanka” was included in Chekhov’s collections of stories and the textbook for elementary school “Book for Reading”, and was also translated into French, German, Danish and other languages.

Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy spoke of the story as an outstanding work.

In 1959, based on the story “Vanka,” a film of the same name was released on Soviet screens, shot at M. Gorky’s film studio.

We invite you to read Anton Pavlovich Chekhov’s story “Over-Salted,” which tells how land surveyor Gleb Smirnov persuades a man named Klim to give him a ride. What came out of this - you will find out in the work.

The pressing topic of orphanhood, revealed in the story “Vanka”

The topic of orphanhood often evokes compassion and mercy in people, and especially in children. It is precisely this acute problem that the author touched upon in his story.

The reader sees the life of a poor peasant boy who, after the death of his mother, became an apprentice to the city shoemaker Alekhine. It wasn't easy for the child. Hunted down by evil adults, he lived in constant fear. Nine-year-old Vanya was pulled by the hair, beaten mercilessly, humiliated and fed very, very poorly. But there was no one to complain to, except perhaps his own grandfather Konstantin Makarych. It was to him that the boy began to write a letter on Christmas night.

A heartfelt story about the life of an orphan

“Dear grandfather, Konstantin Makarych! - And I’m writing you a letter” - this is how Vanya’s sad story about his difficult orphan’s lot begins. The boy paused and delved into his memories. His grandfather serves as a night watchman for the gentlemen. “During the day he sleeps in the people’s kitchen or jokes with the cooks, but at night, wrapped in a spacious sheepskin coat, he walks around the estate and knocks on his mallet.” So Konstantin Makarych takes his granddaughter into the forest to get a Christmas tree, and Vanya, although very cold, rejoices at the opportunity to admire nature, look at the running hare, and then, when they bring the forest beauty into the house, he decorates it together with the young lady Olga Ignatievna. Oh, this sweet, kind woman! She fed Vanya candy and taught him to read, write, count to one hundred and even dance a square dance. But that is in the past. At that time, Pelageya’s mother was still alive and served as a maid for the masters. And now…

Vanya again began to write to his grandfather: “Have pity on me, an unfortunate orphan, because everyone beats me and I want to eat my passion, but I’m so bored that it’s impossible to say, I keep crying.” He asked so much to take him away from this terrible place, he promised to clean his boots with the clerk, or to become a shepherd “in Fedka’s place.” Just to be away from bullying, rudeness and outright humiliation. After all, it had already reached the point that the owner hit the boy hard on the head with a block...

Vanka finally finished his letter. Only now, not knowing the exact address or simply not understanding that it must be indicated, he writes three words on the envelope “to the village of grandfather.” The poor child fell asleep with the hope of a better life, not even suspecting that no one would receive his letter. A vicious circle from which there is no way out.

He didn't get any presents for Christmas

The story “Vanka” by Anton Chekhov is the personification of the attitude of rich and noble gentlemen towards poor children of that time. It would seem that it is Christmas Eve, when the children receive gifts and rejoice at the birth of the Savior Christ.

But Vanya knows that even a great holiday will not affect the attitude of his owners towards him, and on this day everything will be the same: beatings, reproaches, rudeness. Therefore, he writes a tearful letter, where he expresses all the melancholy and pain.

The work ends with an ellipsis. The boy will remain working for the shoemaker. The future will show what awaits him.

Anton Pavlovich Chekhov

"Vanka"

“Vanka Zhukov, a nine-year-old boy who was apprenticed to the shoemaker Alyakhin three months ago, did not go to bed on the night before Christmas.” He wrote a letter to his grandfather Konstantin Makarych. Vanka is an orphan. He thinks about his grandfather - a 65-year-old “skinny and nimble old man with a cheerful face and always drunken eyes”, who serves as a watchman for the Zhikharevs. During the day, the grandfather sleeps or jokes with the cooks, and at night he knocks on his mallet. My grandfather has two dogs - Kashtanka and Vyun.

Vanka writes in an ingenuous childish language about how difficult it is for him at the shoemaker’s, and asks his grandfather to pick him up. “And this week the hostess told me to clean the herring, and I started with the tail, and she took the herring and started poking me in the mug with her muzzle. Dear grandfather, take me away from here, otherwise I will die. I’ll grind tobacco for you, and if anything happens, whip me like Sidorov’s goat.” Vanka would like to run to the village on foot, “but I don’t have boots, I’m afraid of the frost.” He also writes about Moscow: “And Moscow is a big city. The houses are all master’s houses and there are a lot of horses, but there are no sheep and the dogs are not evil.”

While writing the letter, Vanka is constantly distracted; various pictures of life in the village emerge in his memory. He remembers how he and his grandfather went to the forest at Christmas time to get a Christmas tree for the gentlemen. “It was a fun time! And the grandfather quacked, and the frost quacked, and looking at them, Vanka quacked.” He remembers the young lady Olga Ignatievna, for whom Vanka’s mother Pelageya, when she was alive, served as a maid. Olga Ignatievna fed Vanka candy and, having nothing else to do, taught him to read, write, count to one hundred, and even square dance. When Pelageya died, the orphan Vanka was sent to the people's kitchen to his grandfather, and from the kitchen to Moscow to the shoemaker Alyakhin. “Dear grandfather, when the gentlemen have a Christmas tree with gifts, take me a gilded nut... from the young lady Olga Ignatievna for Vanka.

Have pity on me, an unfortunate orphan, otherwise everyone beats me and I want to eat passion. And don’t give my harmony to anyone. I’m staying with your grandson Ivan Zhukov, dear grandfather, come.” Vanka put the letter in an envelope and wrote the address: “to grandfather in the village.” Then he scratched himself, thought and added: “To Konstantin Makarych.” Satisfied, Vanka “ran to the first mailbox and put the precious letter into the slot... Lulled by sweet hopes, an hour later he was fast asleep... He dreamed of the stove. A grandfather sits on the stove, his bare feet dangling, and reads a letter to the cooks... Loach walks near the stove and twirls his tail.”... Retold Maria Pershko

"Vanka" by Anton Chekhov is a unique work in which the writer depicts a children's theme. The work clearly shows the author's concept of childhood. Chekhov, having chosen this topic, focuses the reader’s attention on the fact that childhood is a special world for which an adult yearns so much. The writer in his work “Vanka” clearly divides the characters into two groups: adults and children. There are two completely opposed states here: childhood and adulthood.

The main character in the story “Vanka” is Vanka Zhukov, who is nine years old. The reader gets to know him and understands that he is an orphan. All he has left is his only grandfather, to whom he writes letters from the city. He was sent there by the young lady Olga Ignatievna, who taught him to write, count and dance. Thanks to this woman, he made it into the “people”, but working with a shoemaker is not as easy for him as it seemed at first glance.

Despite learning to read and write, he does not know how to send a letter. The writer seems to justify it, no one, they say, has shown how this is done. The hero only knows that he needs to be put in the mailbox, and the address looked like this: “To grandfather in the village. Konstantin Makarych." It's funny, isn't it? The writer depicts Vanka Zhukov in two time dimensions. This is his past and present. With the first dimension, everything is clear: grandfather, the dog Kashtanka, Vyun, Olga Ignatievna - everything is fine.

In the second - it is much more difficult - hard work, evil apprentices, master's oppression. The writer portrays a terrible attitude towards the boy; he talks about how the hero is hit in the face with a herring, which makes the reader feel sympathy for Vanka. The image of Vanka Zhukov contains various facets of children's understanding. Chekhov portrays a hero who strives to mythologize his surroundings. As a rule, the world of adults is difficult for children to perceive, so the complaint that he writes in a letter to his grandfather is the usual mental wounds of a child who wants to find peace.

stories by A.P. Chekhov

A touching story about a little boy Vanka, who was sent to study in Moscow and who, tired of Moscow one day, sat down before Christmas to write a letter to his grandfather in the village. In this letter, he described in detail how difficult it was for him to live here and tearfully asked to be taken back to the village. Then, pleased with himself, Vanka took the letter and put it in the mailbox. That night he dreamed of a warm stove.

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In Anka, Zhukov, a nine-year-old boy who was apprenticed to the shoemaker Alyahin three months ago, did not go to bed on the night before Christmas. Having waited until the masters and apprentices had left for matins, he took out a bottle of ink and a pen with a rusty feather from the master's cupboard and, laying out a crumpled sheet of paper in front of him, began to write. Before writing the first letter, he timidly looked back at the doors and windows several times, glanced sideways at the dark image, on both sides of which were shelves with stocks, and sighed shakily. The paper lay on the bench, and he himself was kneeling in front of the bench.

“Dear grandfather, Konstantin Makarych! - he wrote. - And I’m writing you a letter. I wish you a Merry Christmas and wish you everything from God. I have neither father nor mother, you are the only one left for me.”

Vanka turned his eyes to the dark window, in which the reflection of his candle flickered, and vividly imagined his grandfather Konstantin Makarych, serving as a night watchman for the Zhivarevs. This is a small, skinny, but unusually nimble and active old man of about 65 years old, with an ever-laughing face and drunken eyes. During the day he sleeps in the people's kitchen or jokes with the cooks, but at night, wrapped in a spacious sheepskin coat, he walks around the estate and knocks on his mallet. Behind him, with their heads down, walk the old Kashtanka and the male Vyun, so nicknamed for his black color and body, long as that of a weasel. This Loach is unusually respectful and affectionate, looks equally tenderly at both his own and strangers, but does not use credit. Beneath his reverence and humility lies the most Jesuitical malice. No one knows better than him how to sneak up on time and grab someone’s leg, climb into a glacier, or steal a man’s chicken. He had his hind legs beaten off more than once, he was hanged twice, every week he was flogged until he was half to death, but he always came back to life.

Now, probably, the grandfather is standing at the gate, squinting his eyes at the bright red windows of the village church and, stamping his felt boots, joking with the servants. His beater is tied to his belt. He throws up his hands, shrugs from the cold and, giggling like an old man, pinches first the maid and then the cook.

Is there some tobacco we should smell? - he says, presenting his snuffbox to the women.

Women sniff and sneeze. The grandfather comes into indescribable delight, bursts into cheerful laughter and shouts:

Rip it off, it's frozen!

They also let dogs sniff tobacco. Kashtanka sneezes, twists her muzzle and, offended, steps aside. The loach, out of respect, does not sneeze and twirls its tail. And the weather is great. The air is quiet, transparent and fresh. The night is dark, but you can see the whole village with its white roofs and streams of smoke coming from the chimneys, trees covered with frost, snowdrifts. The entire sky is strewn with cheerfully blinking stars, and the Milky Way appears as clearly as if it had been washed and covered with snow before the holiday...

Vanka sighed, wet his pen and continued to write:

“And yesterday I had a beating. The owner dragged me by my hair into the yard and combed me with a spandher because I was rocking their baby in the cradle and accidentally fell asleep. And this week the hostess told me to clean the herring, and I started with the tail, and she took the herring and started poking me in the mug with her muzzle. The apprentices make fun of me, send me to the tavern for vodka and order me to steal cucumbers from the owners, and the owner hits me with whatever he can find. And there is no food. In the morning they give you bread, at lunchtime porridge and in the evening also bread, and for tea or cabbage soup, the owners themselves crack it. And they tell me to sleep in the hallway, and when their baby cries, I don’t sleep at all, but rock the cradle. Dear grandfather, do God’s mercy, take me home from here, to the village, there is no way for me... I bow at your feet and I will forever pray to God, take me away from here, otherwise I will die...”

Vanka twisted his mouth, rubbed his eyes with his black fist and sobbed.

“I’ll rub your tobacco for you,” he continued, “I’ll pray to God, and if anything happens, whip me like Sidorov’s goat. And if you think I don’t have a position, then for Christ’s sake I’ll ask the clerk to clean his boots, or instead of Fedka I’ll go as a shepherd. Dear grandfather, there is no possibility, just death. I wanted to run to the village on foot, but I didn’t have boots, I was afraid of the frost. And when I grow up big, I will feed you for this very reason and will not give offense to anyone, but if you die, I will begin to pray for the repose of your soul, just like for your mother Pelageya.

And Moscow is a big city. The houses are all master's houses and there are a lot of horses, but there are no sheep and the dogs are not evil. The guys here don’t go with the star and they don’t let anyone into the choir to sing, and I saw in one shop on the window hooks they sell straight with fishing line and for all kinds of fish, they’re very expensive, there’s even one hook that can hold a pound of catfish. And I saw some shops where there were all sorts of guns in the master’s style, so that probably a hundred rubles each... And in the butcher shops there are black grouse, and hazel grouse, and hares, and in which place they are shot, the inmates don’t say anything about it.

Dear grandfather, when the gentlemen have a Christmas tree with gifts, take me a gilded nut and hide it in a green chest. Ask the young lady Olga Ignatievna, say, for Vanka.”

Vanka sighed convulsively and again stared at the window. He remembered that his grandfather always went into the forest to get a Christmas tree for the masters and took his grandson with him. It was a fun time! And the grandfather quacked, and the frost quacked, and looking at them, Vanka quacked. It used to be that before cutting down the tree, the grandfather would smoke a pipe, sniff tobacco for a long time, and laugh at the chilled Vanyushka... Young trees, shrouded in frost, stand motionless and wait, which one should die? Out of nowhere, a hare flies through the snowdrifts like an arrow... Grandfather can’t help but shout:

Hold it, hold it... hold it! Oh, the short devil!

The grandfather dragged the cut down tree to the manor's house, and there they began to clean it up... The girl who bothered the most was Olga Ignatievna, Vanka's favorite. When Vanka’s mother Pelageya was still alive and served as a maid for the gentlemen, Olga Ignatievna fed Vanka with candy and, having nothing else to do, taught him to read, write, count to one hundred and even dance a square dance. When Pelageya died, the orphan Vanka was sent to the people’s kitchen to his grandfather, and from the kitchen to Moscow to the shoemaker Alyakhin...

“Come, dear grandfather,” Vanka continued, “I pray to Christ God, take me from here. Have pity on me, an unfortunate orphan, because everyone beats me and I want to eat my passion, but I’m so bored that it’s impossible to say, I keep crying. And the other day the owner hit him on the head with a block, so that he fell and barely came to his senses. Wasting my life is worse than any dog... And I also bow to Alena, crooked Yegorka and the coachman, but don’t give my harmony to anyone. I’m staying with your grandson Ivan Zhukov, dear grandfather, come.”

Vanka folded the scribbled sheet of paper into four and put it in an envelope he had bought the day before for a penny... After thinking a little, he wet his pen and wrote the address:

To grandfather's village.

Then he scratched himself, thought and added: “To Konstantin Makarych.” Satisfied that he was not prevented from writing, he put on his hat and, without throwing on his fur coat, ran out into the street in his shirt...

The clerks from the butcher's shop, whom he had questioned the day before, told him that letters were dropped into mailboxes, and from the boxes they were carried throughout the land on postal troikas with drunken drivers and ringing bells. Vanka ran to the first mailbox and put the precious letter into the slot...

Lulled by sweet hopes, an hour later he was fast asleep... He dreamed of the stove. The grandfather sits on the stove, his bare feet dangling, and reads a letter to the cooks... Loach walks near the stove and twirls his tail...

“Vanka Zhukov, a nine-year-old boy who was apprenticed to the shoemaker Alyakhin three months ago, did not go to bed on the night before Christmas.” He wrote a letter to his grandfather Konstantin Makarych. Vanka is an orphan. He thinks about his grandfather - a 65-year-old “skinny and nimble old man with a cheerful face and always drunken eyes,” who serves as a watchman for the Zhikharevs. During the day, the grandfather sleeps or jokes with the cooks, and at night he knocks on his mallet. My grandfather has two dogs – Kashtanka and Vyun.

Have pity on me, an unfortunate orphan, otherwise everyone beats me and I want to eat passion. And don’t give my harmony to anyone. I’m staying with your grandson Ivan Zhukov, dear grandfather, come.” Vanka put the letter in an envelope and wrote the address: “to grandfather’s village.” Then he scratched himself, thought and added: “To Konstantin Makarych.” Satisfied, Vanka “ran to the first mailbox and put the precious letter into the slot... Lulled by sweet hopes, an hour later he was fast asleep... He dreamed of the stove. The grandfather sits on the stove, his bare feet dangling, and reads a letter to the cooks... Loach walks near the stove and twirls his tail”...

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Vanka Zhukov, a nine-year-old boy, sent from the village three months ago to apprentice with a shoemaker in Moscow, waited until Christmas, when his masters and apprentices had gone to church, and, looking around fearfully, sat down to write a letter home.

“Dear grandfather, Konstantin Makarych! - he began. – I wish you a Merry Christmas and wish you everything from the Lord God. I have neither father nor mother, you are the only one left for me.”

Vanka vividly imagined his grandfather, who served as a night watchman. He was a small and nimble old man, with an ever-laughing face and drunken eyes. At night he walks around the manor's estate with the dogs Kashtanka and Vyun and knocks on the mallet. Vanka imagined his village with snow-covered roofs and wisps of smoke from the chimneys.

Sighing, he continued to write, telling in a letter to his grandfather how the owner dragged him out into the yard by his hair and combed him with a spandher because he accidentally fell asleep while rocking the child in the cradle. The hostess told Vanka to clean the herring, and he started from the tail. Then she took the herring and “with her muzzle began to poke him in the mug.” The apprentices mocked Vanka, sent him to the tavern for vodka and ordered him to steal cucumbers from the owners. They fed him poorly: only bread and porridge, and put him to sleep in the hallway. “Dear grandfather,” the boy wrote, “do God’s mercy, take me home from here, to the village, there is no way for me... I bow at your feet and I will forever pray to God, take me away from here, otherwise I will die...”

"Vanka." Film based on the story by A.P. Chekhov. 1959

Vanka also wrote in a letter about Moscow: that it is a big city, where there are many trading shops, and they sell such hooks for fishing that they can even catch a catfish. The houses there are all master's houses and there are a lot of horses, but there are no sheep, and the dogs are not evil...

Vanka asked his grandfather, when the owners had a Christmas tree with gifts for the New Year, to take him a candy - a gilded nut - from the young lady Olga Ignatievna. Vanka’s mother Pelageya used to serve as maids for the gentlemen. At this time, Olga Ignatievna, having nothing else to do, taught the boy to read, write, count to one hundred, and even square dance. But then his mother died, and the orphan Vanka was sent to the people’s kitchen to his grandfather, and from the kitchen to Moscow to study with a shoemaker...

“Come, dear grandfather,” Vanka continued, “I pray to you by Christ God, take me away from here. Have pity on me, an unfortunate orphan, otherwise everyone beats me and I want to eat passion, I keep crying... I’m left with your grandson Ivan Zhukov.”

Vanka folded the scribbled sheet of paper and put it in an envelope he had bought the day before for a penny. On it he wrote the address: “To grandfather’s village.” Then he thought and added: “To Konstantin Makarych.”

The shop assistants told Vanka that letters were dropped into mailboxes, and from the boxes they were carried all over the world in postal troikas with drunken drivers and ringing bells. Vanka ran to the first mailbox and put a letter in the slot.

When he returned, he fell fast asleep. He dreamed that in the village his grandfather, sitting on the stove, read his letter to the cooks, and the dog Vyun walked nearby, wagging his tail.

On our website you can read the full text of the story “Vanka”. For summaries of other works by A.P. Chekhov, see below in the block “More on the topic...”