Evgeny Yevtushenko there are no uninteresting people in the world. "There are no uninteresting people in the world ..." E

The lyrics of E. Yevtushenko are incredibly diverse and devoted to a variety of topics. A large place in it is occupied by philosophical reflections. One of these poems is "There are no uninteresting people in the world ..." (1961), dedicated to the famous journalist S. N. Preobrazhensky. In this work, Yevtushenko reflects on the meaning of human life and its significance.

In Soviet times, the priority of society over the individual was proclaimed. An individual person deserved attention only if he acted for the benefit of the whole society or committed a socially significant act. Yevtushenko opposes such a one-sided view.

“There are no uninteresting people in the world ...” - this is how the poet's reflection begins. He compares the fate of each person with the fate of the planet. By this he emphasizes its scale and uniqueness. Even someone who has lived unnoticed all his life, without standing out in any way and without doing anything great, deserves attention precisely for his invisibility. Even uninteresting people are strikingly different from each other.

A person with his feelings and experiences is a separate unique world that lives according to its own laws. This world is filled with events, joys and sorrows, defeats and victories. It has its solemn and mourning dates. Unlike the universal human world, all these events are unknown to others. Therefore, the death of any, even the most insignificant person, is a huge tragedy. Not only he dies, the whole world dies.

Yevtushenko does not deny the contribution of famous people. Even in the generally accepted sense, a person is obliged to leave behind a tree, a house and a son. People work and fill the world with the products of their activity. Man's intentions take on a physical form. But what can a bridge built by him or an assembled car say about a person? Even outstanding works of art can, from a certain angle, illuminate only one of the sides of a multifaceted human personality. The largest and most valuable part of a person's inner world dies with him.

Yevtushenko moves on to the philosophical question of the knowability of man. There is a certain opinion about everyone, which is very far from the truth. A “sinful and earthly” person remains in memory for his deeds and deeds. But no one knows how much they corresponded to his inner world. The poet claims that no one truly understands even the closest people, even "his own father."

Yevtushenko is driven to despair by the thought that humanity is discovering space for itself, but calmly perceives the death of entire unexplored worlds on its planet. They will never be returned. The poet has only one way out: "to scream from this irreversibility."

There are no uninteresting people in the world.
Their fates are like the histories of the planets.
Each has everything special, its own,
and there are no planets like it.

And if someone lived unnoticed
and was friends with this invisibility,
he was interesting among people
by its very lack of interest.

Everyone has their own secret private world.
There is the best moment in this world.
There is the most terrible hour in this world,
but all this is unknown to us.

And if a person dies
with him his first snow dies,
and the first kiss, and the first fight ...
He takes all this with him.

Yes, books and bridges remain
machines and artists canvases,
yes, much is destined to stay,
but something is still missing!

Such is the law of the ruthless game.
Not people die, but worlds.
We remember people, sinful and earthly.
And what did we really know about them?

What do we know about brothers, about friends,
what do we know about our only one?
And about his own father
we, knowing everything, know nothing.

People are leaving... They cannot be returned.
Their secret worlds cannot be revived.
And every time I want again
from this irreversibility to scream.

Evgeny Yevtushenko

* * *
S. Preobrazhensky

There are no uninteresting people in the world.
Their fates are like the histories of the planets.
Each has everything special, its own,
and there are no planets like it.

And if someone lived unnoticed
and was friends with this invisibility,
he was interesting among people
by its very lack of interest.

Everyone has their own secret private world.
There is the best moment in this world.
There is the most terrible hour in this world,
but all this is unknown to us.

And if a person dies
with him his first snow dies,
and the first kiss, and the first fight...
He takes all this with him.

Yes, books and bridges remain
machines and artists canvases,
yes, much is destined to stay,
but something is still missing!

Such is the law of the ruthless game.
Not people die, but worlds.
We remember people, sinful and earthly.
And what did we really know about them?

What do we know about brothers, about friends,
what do we know about our only one?
And about his own father
we, knowing everything, know nothing.

People are leaving... They cannot be returned.
Their secret worlds cannot be revived.
And every time I want again
from this irreversibility to scream.

Yevgeny Yevtushenko. Poems.
Series "My Most Poems".
Moscow: Slovo, 1999.
Other lyrics of "E. Evtushenko"

Other titles for this text

• E. Yevtushenko - There are no uninteresting people in the world ...
• poem by Evgeny Yevtushenko - There are no uninteresting people in the world ...

In memory of my own only brother Vladimir Ivanovich Dushutin.

The deafening pain news of the sudden, sudden departure of my older brother reached Murom from Vadinsk (Kerensk) on the morning of December 10. On the night of the 11th, through Arzamas, I left for an 18-hour journey by train and taxi. To share our common grief, to say goodbye to my brother, who suddenly became prettier again and rejuvenated in his now eternal dream ...

We saw each other every summer. For 38 years, the only route is to the south, not to exotic countries. Home! And at the behest of my mother “The air of a small homeland is special” and gives new strength) - only home on vacation. Called the day before. With his wife - our Valya, "wall stone", reliable in everything, like my mother. Vova is especially taciturn with us. Only in men's conversations with true friends, classmates and classmates, with smart interlocutors, for example, with his nephew Gennady, who worked for a long time in the Office of the President of the Russian Federation, his department grew pure products for digging tables in the agricultural sector), he was especially inspired somehow, surprising deep insights. About some odious and incessant politicians, when they were talking nonsense, not knowing the depths of the people, for example, our Vovik, with a contagious, rare laughter for him and intonation accurately, spoke laconically and succinctly: "Frame!" And the answer is our group “pokatukha”, which completely destroys false speculative and absurd messages to the people. It needed to be heard! And this is his word, nailing stupidity or, on the contrary, approving something opposite in meaning, we, all our family members, interpret, quoting “brother,” with pleasure and humor.

Our Vladimir Ivanovich Dushutin (2.02.1950 - 10.12.2017) He left when the worldly and medical miracle had already happened more than once. Heart surgery, three hospitals Vadinsk - N-Lomov - Penza alternately, resuscitation. Arrhythmia. And a lot of things. But he persevered. There is always a guardian angel nearby, his “sun” Valya, she herself is a doctor, an incredibly talented needlewoman, which is why a my home in the world is always warm and cozy. Nearby and their faithful family friends - doctors Filimonov. For about three months there was some psychological balance in the family. Let's spend a year without losses?! All our autumn and winter birthdays celebrated their birthdays, not overshadowed by the December grief already looming nearby. We have lost a little acute anxiety for his health, for the well-being of a family burdened with extortionate loans for natural gas, a house rebuilt after a fire, for city amenities, and finally, in two large private, solid, habitable houses. The youngest son Vadim earned money in Moscow for his apartment. And here he invested a lot of work and money. “Dad, mom, just live long and in comfort!You deserve decent conditions!” It would be easier to live, because our three generations in this house, a full bowl - from the outside, got so much hard work that it’s scary to remember. Now - do not coffin with water, it is in the house, like natural gas and all civilized amenities. I would like to slowly grow the garden and flower beds again and cultivate new varieties (Vova is a biologist). He got a little stronger, began to eat better, was calmer, more sensitive to his relatives. Previously, the entire orbit of our dizziness was “around Vovik”, and getting his approval was not easy. .

He is only two years older, but, of course, I am a “salaga”, the rest are “salaga” with our strict Aquarius-Tiger, who dreamed of becoming a regular military man after serving in Mongolia, following the example of his handsome uncle Konstantin Sumersky, who lived in Moscow. And the vocabulary was appropriate. But it sounded condescending, and we were somewhat flattered by the maximum maxim of our very critical "Vovik" - my mother's beloved first-born, he did not live up to her age of 20 years; "sun" with frequent prominences for his glorious wife; "Vovka-carrots" since childhood - for me, an obstinate sister; a respectable father and beloved grandfather for two wonderful sons and wonderful granddaughters; an authoritative, laconic uncle for his nephew, my son, and also a respected relative for numerous relatives on my father's side, mostly centenarians, but our seemingly unshakable genetic program collapsed on him, starting with great-grandfather Plato, grandfather Stepan, dad Ivan - less than 75 and none of them lived for 80).

In August, we talked at his house, recalled our common childhood and youth, our parents, our fearless high-speed motorcycle ride to Penza, his attitude and ability to dress elegantly, for which we were called in our youth a “mannequin” - on the family nest of our parents built by them in 1961. Hospitable always, hospitable house. And how many countrymen and visitors came to see him off and give us spiritual support! 17 cars were escorted to the resting place on December 12. On the way, the sad procession was overshadowed by the farewell baptism of fellow countrymen. The neighbors at the house on the mountain, in the center, also said goodbye, where the brother's family also lived for a long time, while the parents were alive. Everyone - a deep bow and thank you! And how much a whole brigade of skillful cooks from relatives and neighbors prepared in total for a feast for almost a hundred people - this justifies the popular proverb: "In the world and death is red"! On the eve of Saturday, we talked with Valya for a long time. Vova rested calmly. Scheduled examination for Tuesday. And nothing foreshadowed the worst, especially a fatal blood clot!!! And in the morning thunder broke out - from eternity.

I had plans for December 11th when I had to leave suddenly. In the morning - traditionally congratulate my student and successor at Strela Natasha on her birthday, in the evening take a final interview with the police, take three creative materials for the jury of the local media competition to the editorial office of the Moscow Committee, everything was published in the Moscow Committee and on this portal: an essay about the athlete and unique personnel worker, the highest professional of the MSZ Kolya Zemskov, dedication to the memory of creative colleagues Sytnik and Vl. Iv. Ishutin and exclusive material about the trip of a Murom compatriot, a talented singer, now a Muscovite Marina Ivleva with the brilliant Yevgeny Yevtushenko (he chose her voice from many in Vladimir) on his large-scale trip (the last in his life) throughout great Russia. Therefore, I decided to dedicate my favorite poem of the poet to the memory of my brother Vladimir.

Tatyana Dushutina

Yevgeny Yevtushenko: "There are no uninteresting people in the world"

There are no uninteresting people in the world.

Their fates are like the histories of the planets.

Each has everything special, its own,

and there are no planets like it.

And if someone lived unnoticed

and was friends with this invisibility,

he was interesting among people

by its very lack of interest.

Everyone has their own secret private world.

There is the best moment in this world.

There is the most terrible hour in this world,

but all this is unknown to us.

And if a person dies

with him his first snow dies,

and the first kiss, and the first fight ...

He takes all this with him.

Yes, books and bridges remain

machines and artists canvases,

yes, much is destined to stay,

but something is still missing!

Such is the law of the ruthless game.

Not people die, but worlds.

We remember people, sinful and earthly.

And what did we really know about them?

What do we know about brothers?, about friends,

what do we know about our only one?

And about his own father

we, knowing everything, know nothing.

People are leaving... They cannot be returned.

Their secret worlds cannot be revived.

And every time I want again

from this irreversibility to scream.

Analysis of the poem "There are no uninteresting people in the world" Yevtushenko

The lyrics of E. Yevtushenko are incredibly diverse and devoted to a variety of topics. A large place in it is occupied by philosophical reflections. One of these poems is “There are no uninteresting people in the world ...” (1961), dedicated to the famous journalist S.N. Preobrazhensky. In this work, Yevtushenko reflects on the meaning of human life and its significance.

In Soviet times, the priority of society over the individual was proclaimed. An individual person deserved attention only if he acted for the benefit of the whole society or committed a socially significant act. Yevtushenko opposes such a one-sided view.

“There are no uninteresting people in the world ...” - this is how the poet's reflection begins. He compares the fate of each person with the fate of the planet. By this he emphasizes its scale and uniqueness. Even someone who has lived unnoticed all his life, without standing out in any way and without doing anything great, deserves attention precisely for his invisibility. Even uninteresting people are strikingly different from each other.

A person with his feelings and experiences is a separate unique world that lives according to its own laws. This world is filled with events, joys and sorrows, defeats and victories. It has its solemn and mourning dates. Unlike the universal human world, all these events are unknown to others. Therefore, the death of any, even the most insignificant person, is a huge tragedy. Not only he dies, the whole world dies.

Yevtushenko does not deny the contribution of famous people. Even in the generally accepted sense, a person is obliged to leave behind a tree, a house and a son. People work and fill the world with the products of their activity. Man's intentions take on a physical form. But what can a bridge built by him or an assembled car say about a person? Even outstanding works of art can, from a certain angle, illuminate only one of the sides of a multifaceted human personality. The largest and most valuable part of a person's inner world dies with him.

Yevtushenko moves on to the philosophical question of the knowability of man. There is a certain opinion about everyone, which is very far from the truth. A “sinful and earthly” person remains in memory for his deeds and deeds. But no one knows how much they corresponded to his inner world. The poet claims that no one truly understands even the closest people, even "his own father."

Yevtushenko is driven to despair by the thought that humanity is discovering space for itself, but calmly perceives the death of entire unexplored worlds on its planet. They will never be returned. The poet has only one way out: "to scream from this irreversibility."

From open Internet sources

“There are no uninteresting people in the world ...” Evgeny Yevtushenko

S. Preobrazhensky

There are no uninteresting people in the world.
Their fates are like the histories of the planets.
Each has everything special, its own,
and there are no planets like it.

And if someone lived unnoticed
and was friends with this invisibility,
he was interesting among people
by its very lack of interest.

Everyone has their own secret private world.
There is the best moment in this world.
There is the most terrible hour in this world,
but all this is unknown to us.

And if a person dies
with him his first snow dies,
and the first kiss, and the first fight ...
He takes all this with him.

Yes, books and bridges remain
machines and artists canvases,
yes, much is destined to stay,
but something is still missing!

Such is the law of the ruthless game.
Not people die, but worlds.

What do we know about brothers, about friends,
what do we know about our only one?
And about his own father
we, knowing everything, know nothing.

People are leaving... They cannot be returned.
Their secret worlds cannot be revived.
And every time I want again
from this irreversibility to scream.

Analysis of Yevtushenko's poem "There are no uninteresting people in the world ..."

The poem "There are no uninteresting people in the world ...", written in 1961, is dedicated to Sergei Nikolaevich Preobrazhensky (1908-1979), a well-known journalist in the Soviet years, publicist, author of a study of Fadeev's novel "Ferrous Metallurgy". In addition, he served as executive editor in the famous literary and art magazine Yunost. In his memoirs, Yevtushenko noted that Preobrazhensky reverently loved poetry. It was due to his efforts that the famous poem by Evgeny Alexandrovich “Bratskaya HPP” (1965) was published.

"There are no uninteresting people in the world ..." - an example of Yevtushenko's philosophical lyrics. In it, the poet discusses eternal topics: life and death, the meaning of a person's stay on earth. The work proclaims the fact of the uniqueness of each representative of the human race, even the most ordinary, nondescript, in no way stands out from the crowd, does not have any outstanding abilities. Human destinies are comparable in mystery to the stories of distant planets. Yevtushenko claims that everyone has a secret personal world filled with the best moments and terrible hours. No one is able to know us as well as we know ourselves. The lyrical hero of the work is delighted with the versatility, immensity of the personality of each person. An individual dies, and with him his first snow dies, his first kiss, his first fight. And nothing can be done about this injustice. People leave, taking with them their secret worlds that will never be revived. From such irreversibility, the lyrical hero wants to scream. Of course, books and canvases remain from creative people, cars and bridges from workers. Something remains, but something is sure to leave the earth forever. From this, Yevtushenko deduces the eternal law of existence, ruthless and immutable, “not people die, but worlds.”

The main means of artistic expression in a poem are rhetorical questions and exclamations, dots, lexical repetitions. With the help of them, Evgeny Aleksandrovich draws the attention of readers to the most important thoughts. For example:
We remember people, sinful and earthly.
And what did we really know about them?
The poem is written in simple language - it does not contain tricky words, complex metaphors. Yevtushenko's lyrics are able to penetrate the heart of almost any person, it is not without reason that she had millions of fans in her time, and even now she has not lost her relevance.