"Provincial Essays" by Saltykov-Shchedrin. Mikhail Saltykov-Shchedrin - provincial essays

Alexander Yakovlev “Provincial Pages” (“Ufa Literary Criticism”, Issue 2: Collection of Literary Critical Articles and Essays. - Ufa: EvRAPI; RIO RUNMC MO RB, 2004) Compiler Eduard Baikov included materials from different genres in the new collection.

Basement essays Where else to start, if not from here, from this corner of the earth closed in the ridges of mountains, where the harsh desert of the hills calls for asceticism, and the evening melts in the iridescent colors of the mother-of-pearl abyss, where the bitterness of wormwood is replaced by the sweet smell of grapes, and the bitterness

Chapter III. Early stories and essays Mark Twain was one of those Americans who deeply absorbed lofty ideas era of the Civil War and painfully experienced their profanation. For an honest writer, like the young Mark Twain, his environment gave rise to a desire to find

"Provincial Essays", which appeared in print as separate stories and scenes in 1856–1857, constituted Saltykov's first major work. The origin of the concept of "Provincial essays" and the work on them date back to the time of the writer's return from Vyatka, where he was exiled by Nicholas I to serve in 1848.

Saltykov returned to St. Petersburg at the beginning of 1856, shortly before the Peace of Paris. This peace ended the Crimean War, in which "tsarism," according to F. Engels, "suffered a pitiful collapse." Under these conditions, the government itself did not consider it possible or expedient to maintain the existing order of things in complete inviolability. The next step was the elimination of serfdom - a radical social evil old Russia, which lay like a stone in the way of a progressive solution of all the main tasks facing the country.

The beginning of the historical turning point, on the one hand, responded in the life of Russian society with an "unprecedented sobering up", the need to take a critical look at one's past and present, and on the other hand, caused a wave optimistic expectations, associated with the emerging hope to take an active part in the "making" of history.

In this situation, the “Provincial Essays” arose - one of the milestone works of Russian literature. “We remember the appearance of Mr. Shchedrin in the Russian Messenger,” Dostoevsky wrote in 1861. - Oh, then it was such a joyful, hopeful time! After all, Mr. Shchedrin chose a minute when to appear. This “minute” turned out to be the two-year period of 1856-1837, which was truly unusual in Russian literature and public life, when together with the “Provincial Essays” there appeared “Sevastopol Tales” by Tolstoy and “Rudin” by Turgenev, “Family Chronicle” by Aksakov and “Profitable Place” by Ostrovsky , "Settlers" by Grigorovich and "Wedding of Krechinsky" by Sukhovo-Kobylin; when the first book of Nekrasov's poems was published and "burned - according to Ogarev - the soul of a Russian person," when Chernyshevsky's articles were published one after another in the Sovremennik magazine, revealing the horizons of a new, revolutionary-democratic worldview; when Herzen, who had already created " polar star”, founded the famous “Bell” and by ringing it, as Lenin said, broke the “servile silence” in the country; when, finally, "accusatory literature", one of the most characteristic forms of social life of that historical moment, began its noisy march through Russia.

"Provincial essays" were part of the general stream of these phenomena and occupied one of the first places among them in terms of the strength of their impression on contemporaries. This is "a book that undoubtedly had most significant success last year,” testified the then-famous magazine columnist Vl. Raf. Zotov. A little earlier, the same author, wishing to determine the position of the "Provincial Essays" in the historical and literary perspective of the last decade, confidently assigned them "the third place of honor next to two the best works of our modern literature" - "Dead Souls" and "Notes of a Hunter".

Years will pass, Saltykov will create a number of deeper and more mature works. But in the minds of many contemporary readers, his reputation as a writer will for a long time be associated mainly with the "Provincial Essays". “I must confess to you,” Saltykov concluded on this occasion in a letter dated November 25, 1870 to A. M. Zhemchuzhnikov, “that the public has cooled somewhat towards me, although I can’t say that I moved back after the“ Provincial essays ". Considering myself neither a leader nor a first-class writer, I nevertheless went a little ahead against the “Gubernskie Essays”, but the public, apparently, thinks about it differently. Indeed, none of Saltykov's subsequent works was accepted by the "public" with such burning interest, as excitedly and fervently as his first book. But the point here was, of course, not in the backward movement of Saltykov's talent. It was in the changed socio-political situation. The exceptional success of the "Provincial Essays" in the second half of the 50s was determined primarily not artistic merit works, but by its objective sound, those qualities that gave Chernyshevsky reason not only to name the book "a wonderful literary phenomenon" but include it among "historical facts Russian life».

With these words, Chernyshevsky very precisely defined the general meaning of the Gubernskie Essays. The artistic prism of this work reflects the profound shifts in Russian public consciousness during the beginning of the "revolution" in the life of the country. objective historical content This “revolution” (in its final results) was, according to Lenin, “the change of one form of society by another - the replacement of serfdom by capitalism ...”.

In the “Provincial Essays”, contemporaries saw a broad picture of the life of that Russia in the last years of the serfdom, about which even the representative of the monarchist ideology, the Slavophil Khomyakov, wrote with bitterness and indignation in a poem about the Crimean War:

In the courts black lies black

And branded with the yoke of slavery,

Godless flattery, pernicious lies

And laziness is dead and shameful

And it's full of filth.

To create this picture, Saltykov had to, in his words, "plunge into the swamp" of the pre-reform province, peer closely into its way of life. “Vyatka,” he said to L.F. Panteleev, “had a beneficial effect on me: it brought me closer to real life and gave me a lot of materials for the Provincial Essays, and earlier I wrote nonsense.”

On the other hand, in order to creatively process the impressions of the “ugliness of provincial life”, which, while in Vyatka, Saltykov, by his own admission, “saw but did not think about them, but somehow mechanically absorbed them with his body”, and create from these materials a book deeply analytical and at the same time possessing the power of broad figurative generalizations - for this the author had to develop his own view of modern Russian reality and find artistic means of expressing it.

It has long been shown in the literature how densely the “Provincial Essays” are saturated with Vyatka observations and experiences of the author (although far from them alone). The "heroes" of Saltykov's first book, everyday life and landscape sketches in it, as well as its artistic "toponymy" are associated with Vyatka, with the Vyatka and Perm provinces. So, “Krutogorsk” (originally “Steep Mountains”) is Vyatka itself, “Sryvny” - Sarapul, “Okov” - Glazov, “Krechetov” - Orlov, “Chernoborsk” - Slobodskaya, etc. A lot in the “Provincial essays » and genuine geographical names: the provinces of Perm and Kazan, the counties of Nolinsky, Cherdynsky, Yaransky, the rivers Kama and Vetluga, Lupya and Usta, Pilva and Kolva, the piers of Porubovskaya and Trushnikovskaya, the villages of Lenva, Usolye, Bogorodskoye, Ukhtym, the ironworks in Ocher, Pig Mountains, etc. d.

Vyatka, the Vyatka province and the Ural region inspired the collective image of the Russian people in the first book of Saltykov. The depiction of the people in the “Provincial Essays” is dominated by features characteristic of the rural population of the northeastern provinces: not landlords, but state, or state, peasants, adherents not of the official church, but of the “old faith” (schismatics), not only “Great Russians”, but also "foreigners" - "votyaks" and "zyryans", that is, Udmurts and Komi. Directly from Vyatka observations, Saltykov borrowed the plot bases for most of his Essays, with the exception, however, of the section "Talented Natures", which has little to do with Vyatka material.

The basis of the "concept" of Russian life, artistically developed in the "Provincial Essays" - democracy. Moreover, this democracy is no longer abstract and humanistic, as in the youthful stories of the 1940s, but historically concrete, associated with the peasantry. Saltykov is full of feelings of direct love and sympathy for the long-suffering peasant Russia, whose life is filled with "heartache", "sucking need".

Saltykov sharply separates in his "Essays" the laboring subordinate people (peasants, philistines, lower officials) both from the official world, represented by all ranks of the pre-reform provincial administration, and from the world of the "first estate". People, officials and landowners-nobles- three main collective the image of the work. Between them, in the main, a motley crowd is distributed, about three hundred characters of the Essays - living people of the Russian province of the last years of Nicholas's reign.

Saltykov's attitude to the main groups of the then Russian society and the method of depicting them are different. He does not hide his likes and dislikes.

The writer's ideas about people's life are still devoid of socio-historical perspective and clarity. They reflect peasant democracy in its initial stage. The image of the Russian people - a "giant baby", still tightly swaddled by the serfdom swaddling clothes, is recognized by Saltykov as "mysterious" for the time being: the diverse manifestations of Russian folk life are embraced by "gloom". It is necessary to unravel this "mystery", to dispel the "darkness". It is necessary to find out the innermost thoughts and aspirations of the Russian people and thereby find out what are their moral forces that can lead the masses to conscious and active historical activity (as the educator Saltykov attached special importance to these forces). Takova positive program Saltykov in "Provincial Essays". To implement it, Saltykov focuses on “the study of the predominantly spiritual side of folk life.

In the stories "First Visit", "Arinushka" (section "In prison"), "Christ is Risen!" and in the first essays of the section "Pilgrims, wanderers and travelers" Saltykov tries to look into the very soul of the people and try to understand the inner world of the "simple Russian person". In search of means of penetration into this then almost unexplored sphere, Saltykov sets himself the task of establishing "the degree and manner of manifestation of religious feeling" and "religious consciousness" in different strata of the people. But unlike the Slavophiles, who prompted the writer wording this task real its content had nothing in common with the reactionary-monarchist and Orthodox ideology of "Holy Russia".

Under the religious and church cover of some historically established phenomena in the life of the Russian people, such as, for example, going on a pilgrimage or wandering, Saltykov is looking for the original people's dream of truth, justice, freedom, looking for practical carriers of "spiritual achievement" in the name of this dream.

True to reality, Saltykov also depicts such sides folk character, as "indisputability", "gentleness", "patience", "submission".

In the very first "introductory essay" Saltykov declares that although he is "sweet" to the "general dialect of the crowd", although he caresses his ears "more than the best Italian aria", he "often" hears in it "the strangest, most false notes ".

We are talking here about the still grave unawakenedness of the popular masses, their darkness, civic underdevelopment and, above all, passivity.

The positive program in the "Essays", associated with the disclosure ("study") of the spiritual riches of the people's world and the image of the motherland, determined the deep lyricism of the folk and landscape pages of the book, perhaps the brightest and most sincere in all the writer's work.

“Yes, I love you, distant, untouched land! - the author addresses Krutogorsk and all Russia behind it. - I love your spaciousness and the innocence of your inhabitants! And if my pen often touches such strings of your body that emit an unpleasant and false sound, then this is not from a lack of ardent sympathy for you, but because, in fact, these sounds resound sadly and painfully in my soul.

These words from the "Introduction" - words almost Gogolian even in language - determine the structure of the entire work, in which irony and sarcasm coexist with the element of lyricism - lyricism is not only accusatory, bitter, but also bright, caused by a deep feeling of love for people's Russia and for native nature(see especially the essays "Introduction", "The General Picture", "Retired Soldier Pimenov", "Pakhomovna", "Boredom", "Christ is Risen!" "Arinushka", "Elder", "Road").

Democracy, as the basis of the "concept" of Russian life, developed in the "Essays", determined and negative program Saltykov in his first book. The purpose of this program was to “explore” and then denounce, by means of satire, those “forces” in contemporary Russian life that “stand against the people,” thereby fettering the development of the country.

The fundamental social evil in the life of the Russian people was serfdom, protected by its state guard - the police-bureaucratic system of the Nikolaev autocracy.

In the "Provincial Essays" there are relatively few pictures that give direct image peasant-serf life. For all that, the accusatory pathos and the main socio-political tendency of the "Provincial Essays" are imbued with anti-serfdom, anti-noble content, reflect the struggle of the masses against the age-old bondage of feudal enslavement.

Exposing the provincial underside of the ceremonial "empire of facades" of Nicholas I, drawing all these administrators - "mischievous" and "living throats", officials - bribe takers and embezzlers of public funds, rapists and slanderers, ridiculous and semi-idiotic governors, Saltykov denounced not just bad and incapable people dressed in uniforms. With his satire, he put to pillory the entire serf system and generated by it, according to Herzen's definition, "civil clergy, serving as priests in the courts and police and sucking the blood of the people with thousands of mouths, greedy and unclean."

The same Herzen characterized people of the "noble Russian class" as "drunken officers, bullies, card players, heroes of fairs, hounds, brawlers, sequins, sepals" and "beautiful" Manilovs, doomed to extinction. Saltykov, as it were, embodies these Herzenian definitions, which later attracted Lenin's attention, into a series of finished artistic images or sketches.

In this “group portrait”, the “upper class of society” is nowhere shown in the flowering of noble culture, as in some works of Turgenev and Tolstoy. Everywhere it is only a brute, coercive force, or an exhausted, useless force.

The deeply critical depiction of the Russian nobility in the Gubernskie Essays marked the beginning of Saltykov's remarkable chronicle of the collapse of the ruling class of old Russia. From now on, the writer kept this “chronicle” without interruption, right up to the dying “Poshekhonskaya antiquity”.

In the atmosphere of the beginning of a democratic upsurge and excitement, the Provincial Essays immediately became a central literary and social phenomenon.

Already in his response to the first four "provincial" essays that had just appeared, Chernyshevsky, with his characteristic instinct for the socio-political situation, expressed "confidence" that "the public will reward the author with its sympathy." As the next books of the Russkiy Vestnik are published, Chernyshevsky notes in brief mentions the steady growth of the public interest predicted by him in Saltykov's stories. And the article, specially devoted to "Essays", he begins with the recognition of the universality and enormous success of Saltykov's accusatory work.

Dobrolyubov also begins his article on Saltykov's work with the statement that the Essays "were met with enthusiastic approval by the entire Russian public."

The reformist hopes in the "Provincial Essays" did not prevent Chernyshevsky and Dobrolyubov from giving the work a high rating from the point of view of the main political tasks facing the emerging camp of Russian revolutionary democracy. In the objective artistic content of the Essays, they saw not just a denunciation of "bad" officials in order to replace them with "good" ones, and not everyday memoirs about provincial life, but a work rich in social criticism. This deep criticism and the heat of indignation that permeated it were, in the opinion of the leaders of Sovremennik, an effective weapon in the struggle against the autocratic-landowner system.

The leaders of Sovremennik pursued publicistic goals in their speeches about the Gubernskie Essays. They drew political conclusions from a work of art. And these were revolutionary-democratic conclusions. It turned out to be possible to draw such conclusions only because, already in his first book, Saltykov clearly revealed the position of the writer, who acts not only as an "explainer", but also as a judge and "director" of life - towards broad democratic ideals; he showed himself to be an innovative artist in his approach to the depiction of social evil and the "disorganization of life."

“He is a writer, par excellence, and indignant,” Chernyshevsky defined the image of the author of the Essays. But Chernyshevsky and Dobrolyubov saw the main originality of Saltykov's talent in the writer's ability to portray"environment", the material and spiritual conditions of society, in its ability to guess and reveal the features of social psychology in the characters and behavior of both individuals and entire socio-political groups. It was this peculiarity of the realism of the Essays that allowed the leaders of Sovremennik to use Saltykov's denunciations to propagate the revolutionary-democratic educational thesis: "Remove harmful circumstances, and a person's mind will quickly enlighten and his character will be ennobled."

“Provincial essays,” Chernyshevsky ended his article, “our literature is proud and will be proud for a long time. In every decent person of the Russian land, Shchedrin has a deep admirer. Honestly, his name is among the best, and the most useful, and the most gifted children of our country. He will find many panegyricists for himself, and he is worthy of all panegyrics. No matter how high the praises for his talent and knowledge, his honesty and insight, with which our colleagues in journalism will hasten to glorify him, we say in advance that all these praises will not exceed the merits of the book he wrote. With this assessment, the "Provincial Essays" entered the great Russian literature, with this assessment they live in it to this day.

) Ustvochevskaya the pier (of the Vologda province) is located in the upper reaches of the Northern Keltma, which flows into the Vychegda. Goods floated from this wharf are mainly different kind bread and flaxseed, brought there by horse-drawn cart from the north-western districts of the Perm province: Cherdynsky, Solikamsky and partly Perm and Okhansky. In general, the Vologda province is replete with navigable and raftable rivers, especially in the northeastern part (counties: Ustsysolsky, Nikolsky and Ustyugsky), which benefit not so much for the Vologda Territory, which is deserted and inhospitable in this part, but for the neighboring provinces: Vyatka and Perm . It is known, for example, that all trade in the northern part of the Vyatka province is almost exclusively directed to the Arkhangelsk port, where goods (bread and flax) are rafted along the rivers: Luza (piers: Noshulskaya and Bykovskaya), Yuga (pier Podosinovskaya) and Sysol (pier Kaigorodskaya). Commercial routes lead to all these marinas, very remarkable in their commercial traffic. Unfortunately, it must be confessed that this fact, legitimized by the natural force of circumstances, has yet attracted too little attention. So, for example, the road from the cities of Orlov, Slobodsky and Vyatka to Noshulskaya pier is in the saddest condition, and from the same cities to Bykovskaya pier there is almost no road at all, while laying a convenient path to it, due to its most advantageous position , compared with the Noshulskaya pier, would be a boon for the whole region. In general, a study of the trade movement along the commercial routes of northeastern Russia, and in particular the Vyatka province, and its comparison with the movement taking place along the official (postal) routes, would present a very instructive picture. On the first - activity and crowds, on the last - desert and deathly silence. To be convinced of this, it is enough to drive along the commercial route that has existed since ancient times between cities and counties: Glazov and Nolinsky, and then ride along the postal route connecting the provincial city of Vyatka with the same Glazov. On the first one you constantly meet long rows of carts loaded with goods; rich and trading villages lie there: Bogorodskoye, Ukhtym, Ukan, Uni, Vozhgaly (the last two are a little apart) - these are the centers of the local agricultural industry; on the second, everything is deserted, there are no trading villages at all, and for a whole week only a postal cart drawn by a pair and carrying two prescriptions and a hundred confirmations to the dormant local authorities, and a letter to the secretary of some government place from his provincial godfather and benefactor, will pass. There can be no doubt that trade turnovers suffer a lot from the length of time that accompanies the intercourse of private individuals. ( Note. Saltykov-Shchedrin.)

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In one of the distant corners of Russia there is a city that somehow speaks to my heart in a special way. Not that it is distinguished by magnificent buildings, there are no semiramid gardens in it, you will not meet even a single three-story house in a long row of streets, and the streets are all unpaved; but there is something peaceful, patriarchal in his whole physiognomy, something that calms the soul in the silence that reigns on his pillars. Entering this city, you seem to feel that your career here is over, that you can no longer demand anything from life, that you can only live in the past and digest your memories.
And in fact, there is not even a road further from this city, as if the end of the world is here. Wherever you look around - forest, meadows and steppe; steppe, forest and meadows; somewhere a country road winds in a whimsical twist, and a cart, drawn by a small frisky horse, will gallop along it briskly, and again everything will calm down, everything will drown in the general monotony ...
Krutogorsk is located very picturesquely; when you drive up to it on a summer evening, from the side of the river, and your eyes from afar will open a city garden abandoned on a steep bank, government offices and this beautiful group of churches that dominates the entire neighborhood, you will not take your eyes off this picture. It's getting dark. Fires are lit both in public places and in the prison, standing on a cliff, and in those shacks that are crowded, below, near the water itself; the whole coast seems to be dotted with lights. And God knows why, whether as a result of mental fatigue or simply from road fatigue, the prison and public places seem to you shelters of peace and love, shacks are inhabited by Philemons and Baucids, and you feel such clarity in your soul, such meekness and gentleness ... But then they fly before you the sounds of bells calling for the vigil; you are still far from the city, and the sounds touch your hearing indifferently, in the form of a general rumble, as if the whole air is full of wonderful music, as if everything around you lives and breathes; and if you have ever been a child, if you have had a childhood, it will stand before you in marvelous detail; and suddenly all its freshness, all its impressionability, all its beliefs, all that sweet blindness, which later experience dispelled and which so long and so completely consoled your existence, will rise in your heart.
But darkness more and more takes possession of the horizon; the high spiers of churches sink into the air and seem to be some kind of fantastic shadows; the lights along the shore are getting brighter and brighter; your voice is louder and clearer in the air. Before you is a river ... But its surface is clear and calm, even its pure mirror, reflecting the pale blue sky with its millions of stars; the damp air of the night caresses you softly and softly, and nothing, no sound disturbs the seemingly numb surroundings.

The ferry seems to be not moving, and only the impatient thud of a horse's hoof on the platform and the splash of a pole taken out of the water bring you back to the consciousness of something real, not fantastic.
But here is the coast. A commotion begins; moorings are taken out; your carriage moves a little; you hear the dull tinkling of a tied bell; fasten harness; finally everything is ready; a hat appears in your tarantass and you hear: “Wouldn’t your grace come, father?” - "Touch!" - is heard from behind, and here you are briskly climbing a steep mountain, along a postal road leading past a public garden. And in the city, meanwhile, fires are already burning in all the windows; scattered groups of walkers still roam the streets; you feel at home and, stopping the driver, get out of the carriage and go wandering yourself.
God! how fun you are, how good and gratifying on these wooden sidewalks! Everyone knows you, they love you, they smile at you! There flashed through the windows four figures at a quadrangular table, indulging in business leisure at the card table; here from another window a column of smoke pours, revealing a cheerful company of clerks, and perhaps even dignitaries, gathered in the house; then you heard laughter from a neighboring house, ringing laughter, from which your young heart suddenly fell in your chest, and right next to it, a wit is pronounced, a very good wit, which you have heard many times, but which, this evening, seems especially attractive to you, and you do not get angry, but somehow smile at her good-naturedly and kindly. But here are the walkers - more and more female, around which, as elsewhere, like mosquitoes over a swamp, young people swarm. This youth sometimes seemed unbearable to you: in their striving for female gender you saw something not quite neat; her jokes and tenderness resounded in your ears rudely and materially; but tonight you are kind. If you met the ardent Trezor wagging his tail languidly on the run after the flirtatious Dianka, you would find a means here to find something naive, bucolic. Here she is, the Krutogorsk star, the persecutor of the famous family of the princes Chebylkin - the only princely family in the entire Krutogorsk province - our Vera Gotlibovna, German by birth, but Russian in mind and heart! She walks, and her voice rushes from afar, loudly commanding over a whole platoon of young admirers; she goes, and the gray-haired head of Prince Chebylkin, which has just leaned out of the window, hides, the lips of the princess, eating evening tea, are burned, and a porcelain doll falls out of the hands of a twenty-year-old princess playing in the dissolved window. Here you are, magnificent Katerina Osipovna, also a Krutogorskaya star, you, to whom luxurious forms resemble better times humanity, you, whom I dare not compare with anyone, except for the Greek woman Bobelina. Admirers also swarm around you and a fat conversation winds, for which your charms serve as an inexhaustible subject. And all this smiles at you so affably, you shake hands with everyone, you enter into conversation with everyone. Vera Gotlibovna tells you some new trick of Prince Chebylkin; Porfiry Petrovich relates a wonderful incident from yesterday's preference.
But now his excellency himself, Prince Chebylkin, deigns to return from the vigil, quadruplets in a carriage. His Excellency graciously bows to all sides; a quadruple of well-fed horses drags the carriage with a measured and languid step: the dumb ones themselves feel the importance of the feat entrusted to them and behave like good-mannered horses.
Finally, and quite dark; walkers disappeared from the streets; the windows in the houses are closed; somewhere you can hear the slamming of shutters, accompanied by the tinkling of iron bolts being pushed in, and the dull sounds of a flute, extracted by a melancholic clerk, reach you.
All is quiet, all is dead; dogs on stage...
It would seem that this is not life! Meanwhile, all the officials of Krutogorsk, and especially their spouses, attack this city with bitterness. Who called them there, who glued them to a land so hateful to them? Complaints about Krutogorsk form an eternal canvas for conversation; they are usually followed by aspirations to Petersburg.
– Charming Petersburg! the ladies exclaim.
- Dushka Petersburg! the girls sigh.
“Yes, Petersburg…” the men respond thoughtfully.
In the mouths of all, Petersburg is presented as something like a bridegroom coming at midnight (See Notes 1 at the end of the book); but neither one nor the other, nor the third is sincere; it is so, façon de parler, because our mouth is not covered. Since then, however, since Princess Chebylkina twice went to the capital with her daughter, the enthusiasm has cooled a little: it turns out, “qu "on n" y est jamais chez soi”, that “we have lost the habit of this noise”, that “le prince Kurylkin , jeune homme tout-à-fait charmant, - mais que ça reste entre nous - m "a fait tellement la cour, which is simply ashamed! - but still, what a comparison is our dear, our kind, our quiet Krutogorsk!"
- Dushka Krutogorsk! - squeaks the princess.
- Yes, Krutogorsk ... - the prince responds, smiling carnivorously.
Passion for French phrases is the common malady of the Highmountain ladies and maidens. The girls will gather, and their first condition is: “Well, mesdames, from today we will not speak a word in Russian.” But it turns out that on foreign languages they only know two phrases: permettez-moi de sortir and allez-vous en! Obviously, all concepts, no matter how limited, cannot be expressed in these two phrases, and the poor girls are again condemned to resort to this oak Russian language, in which you cannot express any subtle feeling.
However, the estate of officials is the weak side of Krutogorsk. I do not like his living rooms, in which, in fact, everything looks somehow awkward. But it is comforting and fun for me to roam the streets of the city, especially on the market day, when they are seething with people, when all the squares are littered with various rubbish: chests, beetroot, buckets, and so on. I love this general conversation of the crowd, it caresses my ears more than the best Italian aria, despite the fact that it often contains the strangest, most false notes. Look at these tanned faces: they breathe intelligence and intelligence, and at the same time some kind of genuine innocence, which, unfortunately, is disappearing more and more. The capital of this simplicity is Krutogorsk. You see, you feel that here a person is satisfied and happy, that he is ingenuous and open precisely because there is no reason for him to pretend and dissemble. He knows that whatever befalls him, whether sorrow or joy, is all his, his own, and does not grumble. Sometimes only he will sigh and say: “Lord! if there were no fleas and camps, what kind of paradise would it be, and not life! - he will sigh and humble himself before the hand of Providence, who made both Kieferon, the sweet-voiced bird, and various reptiles.
There are no merchants in Krutogorsk. If you like, the so-called merchants live in it, but they have become so groggy that, apart from a wearable dress and unpaid debts, they have nothing. Their unfounded mind and addiction to jackets and strong drinks ruined them. At first they tried, when they still had some money, to trade with their capital, but no, it’s not argued! The merchant will settle scores by the end of the year - all loss and loss, but it seems that he didn’t work, he didn’t drink all night on the pier with dashing people, but he didn’t lose the last penny in the cartege, all in the hope of increasing the parental heritage! - Things are not going my way! They also tried to make purchases of various goods for a commission, and here they turned out to be faults: if a merchant buys bristles and sprinkles sand into it for commercial circulation, otherwise he puts such a loaf of bread so that there is more crunch - they refused here too. God! You can't do business at all.
But here comes Sunday; the whole city from early morning in agitation, as if languishing with an illness. There is noise and talk in the squares, terrible driving through the streets. Officials, who are not restrained on this day by any official place, do their best to congratulate His Excellency on the holiday. It happens that His Excellency does not quite favorably look at these worships, finding that they are not relevant at all, but the spirit of the times cannot be changed: “Have mercy, Your Excellency, this is not a burden to us, but a sweetness!”
“The weather is fine today,” says Porfiry Petrovich, addressing her Excellency.
Her Excellency listens with visible concern.
“Only it’s a little hot, sir,” the county attorney responded, rising slightly in his chair, “I, Your Excellency, am sweating ...
How is your wife's health? asks Her Excellency, turning to the engineering officer, with an obvious desire to hush up the conversation, which is becoming too intimate.
“She, Your Excellency, is always in this position at this time ...
Her Excellency is decisively lost. General embarrassment.
“And with us, Your Excellency,” says Porfiry Petrovich, “a circumstance happened last week. We received a paper from the Rozhnov Chamber, sir. We read, read this paper - we do not understand anything, but the paper, we see, is necessary. That's just Ivan Kuzmich says: "Let's call, gentlemen, the archivist - maybe he will understand." And exactly, sir, we call on the archivist, he read the paper. "Understand?" we ask. “I don’t understand, but I can answer.” Would you believe, Your Excellency, he actually wrote paper as thick as a finger, only more incomprehensible than the first. However, we signed and sent. General laughter.
- Curious, - says his excellency, - will the Rozhnov Chamber be satisfied?
"Why not be satisfied, Your Excellency?" after all, they need an answer more to clear the case: they’ll take our entire paper somewhere and write it down, sir, otherwise they’ll write it down again; that's how it goes...
But I assume that you are an employee and do not live in Krutogorsk for a long time. You are sent around the province to revise, catch and generally do useful work.
Road! How much attractive is contained in this word for me! Especially in the warm summer time, if, moreover, the upcoming crossings are not tiring for you, if you can slowly settle down at the station to wait out the midday heat, or in the evening to wander around the neighborhood, the road is an inexhaustible pleasure. You are riding lying down in your late tarantass; little philistine horses run briskly and cheerfully, fifteen versts an hour, and sometimes more; the coachman, a good-natured young fellow, constantly turns to you, knowing that you are paying for the runs, and perhaps even give you vodka. Boundless fields spread before your eyes, bordered by a forest that seems to have no end. Occasionally one comes across on the road repairs from two or three yards, or a lonely rural massacre, and again fields, again forest, land, something, land! what an expanse here for the farmer! It seems that he would have lived and died here, lazy and careless, in this deep silence!
However, here is the station; you are a little tired, but it is that pleasant weariness which gives even more value and sweetness to the coming rest. The impression of the sound of a bell still remains in your ears, the impression of the noise made by the wheels of your carriage. You get out of your tarantass and stagger a little. But after a quarter of an hour you are again cheerful and cheerful, you go wandering around the village, and before you unfolds that peaceful rural idyll, of which the prototype has been so completely and completely preserved in your soul. A village herd descends from the mountain; it is already close to the village, and the picture instantly comes to life; an unusual vanity appears throughout the street; women run out of huts with rods in their hands, chasing skinny, undersized cows; a girl of about ten, also with a twig, runs in a hurry, driving a calf and not finding any way to follow its races; a wide variety of sounds are heard in the air, from lowing to the screeching voice of Aunt Arina, loudly swearing at the whole village. Finally, the herd is driven out, the village is empty; only in some places old people still sit on the rubble, and even they yawn and gradually, one by one, disappear through the gates. You yourself go to the upper room and sit down at the samovar. But - a miracle! – civilization is chasing you here too! You hear voices behind the wall.
- What is your name? asks one voice.
- Whom? - answers the other.
- You.
- Me?
- Well, yes, you.
- What's your name?
- Oh, to you ...
There is applause.
“Akim, Akim Sergeev,” the voice hurriedly replies. Your curiosity is interested; you send to find out what is going on in your neighbors, and you will find out that even before you came here the police officer to carry out the investigation, and just like that day and day and toil.
You suddenly become sad, and you hastily order the horses to be laid down.
And again the road is in front of you, again the fresh wind caresses your face, again that transparent twilight embraces you, which in the north replaces summer nights.
And the full moon meekly and softly illuminates the whole neighborhood, over which a light night fog curls like steam ...
Yes, I love you, distant, untouched land! I love your spaciousness and the innocence of your inhabitants! And if my pen often touches those strings of your body that emit an unpleasant and false sound, then this is not from a lack of ardent sympathy for you, but because, in fact, these sounds resound sadly and painfully in my soul. There are many ways to serve the common cause; but I dare to think that the discovery of evil, falsity and vice is also not useless, especially since it presupposes a complete sympathy for goodness and truth.

Fresh legend, but hard to believe ...

“... No, today is not what it was in the old days; In the old days, the people were somehow simpler, more loving. I served, now, in the Zemstvo court as an assessor, I received three hundred rubles in pieces of paper, I was oppressed by my family, and I lived no worse than people. Previously, they knew that an official also needed to drink and eat, well, and they gave a place so that there was something to feed on ... But why? because there was simplicity in everything, there was condescension from the authorities—that's what!
I have had many cases in my life, I will report to you, truly curious cases. Our province is far away, there is no such nobility, well, and we lived here like in Christ's bosom; you used to go once a year to the provincial town, bow to what God sent to the benefactors, and you don’t want to know anything else. It didn't happen to end up in court, or there were some revisions, as it is today, everything went like clockwork. But you, young people, come on, tea, think that now it’s better, the people, they say, endure less, there is more justice, officials have begun to know God. And I will report to you that all this is in vain, sir; the official is still the same, only thinner, more airy... As soon as I listen to these current ones, they begin to talk about economy and about the common good, and anger rises under my heart.
We took, however, what we took - who is not sinful to God, the king is not to blame? But even then, is it better not to take money, and not to do business? as you take it, it is somehow more convenient, more encouraging to work. And now, I’ll see, they’re all talking, and more and more about this disinterestedness, but you can’t see the deeds, and the peasant doesn’t hear that he is getting better, but groans and groans more than ever.
We lived in those days, officials, all among ourselves very amicably. It’s not that envy or some kind of blackness, but everyone gives advice and help to each other. If you lose, it happened, in cards all night long, you will blow everything clean - what to do? well, you go to the police station. “Father, Demyan Ivanovich, so and so, help!” Demyan Ivanovich will listen, he will laugh bossily: “You are supposedly sons of bitches, clerks, and you don’t know how to make money, everything is in a tavern and playing cards!” And then he will say : "Well, there's nothing to do, go to the Sharkovskaya volost to collect." Here you go; you won’t collect taxes, but the kids will have milk.
And how easy it was to do! not that torture or some kind of extortion, but you will come that way, you will gather a meeting.
- Well, they say, guys, help me out! the tsar-father needs money, let's pay.
And you yourself go to your hut and look out of the window: the children are standing and scratching their heads. And then confusion will set in, suddenly everyone will start talking and waving their hands, but after all, for about an hour they have been cooling off like that. And you sit to yourself, naturally, in the hut and chuckle, and in an hour you will send the sotsky to them: “He will, they say, talk to you - the master is angry.” Well, here they will have more turmoil than before; they will start casting lots - a Russian peasant cannot do without a lot. This means that things are going well, they decided to go to the assessor, whether God's mercy would not wait until earnings.
- Eh-eh, guys, but what about the father-king, then! because he needs money; Would you like to take pity on us, your bosses!
And all this with an affectionate word, not just in the teeth and by the hair: “I, they say, do not take bribes, so you know from me what kind of district I am!” - no, that way, with kindness and pity, so that through him, sir, broke through!
- Yes, is it possible, father, at least to wait until the cover?
Well, of course, in the legs.
- Wait, why not wait, it's all in our hands, but why am I in front of the authorities in response to get? - judge for yourself.
The guys will go to the gathering again, talk, talk, and go home, and in two hours, you see, the sotsky will bring you a hryvnia from the soul for waiting, and as in the volost there are four thousand souls, so four hundred rubles will come out, and where there are more ... Well, you go home more cheerfully.
And then here we have another trick that was - this is a general search. We saved these things for the summer, for the most difficult time. You go out for an investigation and start to shoot down all the roundabout people: it’s not enough for one volost, so you grab another - drag them all. Sotsky, we had a living, grated people - as is, of all trades. Three hundred people will drive away, well, and they lie in the sun. They lie for a day, they lie for another; from another and the bread that he took from the house is running out, and you are sitting in your hut, as if you were really studying. This is how they see that time is running out - the field work does not wait - well, they will start sending the sotsky: “Can’t you, they say, show mercy, ask what should be?” it’s not fun to do, but if it hurts a lot they will balk, well, it’ll still wait a day or two. The main thing here is to have character, not to be bored with idleness, not to shy away from the hut and sour milk. They will see that the person is a practical one, and they will succumb, and how else: before for a hryvnia, maybe he asked, but here you are naughty! for three nickels, you couldn't even think of cheaper. When this is over, and ask them all in a crowd:
- What, they say, such and such Trifon Sidorov? scammer?
- A swindler, father, what to say - a swindler.
“But he stole a horse from Mokey?” him guys?
- He, father, he must.
-Are there any literate ones among you?
- No, father, what a letter!
This is what the peasants say is more cheerful: they know that, which means that they will have a vacation now.
- Well, go with God, but go ahead be smarter.
And you'll be released in half an hour. Of course, it’s not much work, just for a few minutes, but you judge how much you can endure here: you sit idly for two or three days, chewing sour bread ... another person would curse his whole life - well, he won’t get anything in such a manner.
In all this business, our teacher and breeder was our district doctor. This man was truly, I will tell you, extraordinary and most witty in all things! Minister to him to be a real place in the mind; there was one sin: he had not only an addiction to a drink, but also some kind of frenzy. He would see, it happened, a decanter of vodka, and the whole would tremble. Of course, we all adhered to this, but still in moderation: you sit to yourself and be complacent, and drink a lot, a lot; well, and he, I will tell you, did not know the measures, he even got drunk to the disgrace of his face.
- I was still a child, - he says, it happened, - so my mother gave me vodka from a spoon so that I wouldn’t cry, and at the age of seven my parent began to let go of a glass a day.
So, such and such a passer-by and instructed us in everything.
“My word, brothers,” he says, will be such that no deed, even if it is holier than the most holy Easter, should not be done for nothing: even a dime, but do not spoil your hands.