The word “review” is of Latin origin and in translation means “viewing, reporting, evaluating, reviewing something”. We can say that a review is a genre, the basis of which is a review (primarily critical) about a work of fiction, art, science, journalism, etc. In whatever form such a review is given, its essence is - express the attitude of the reviewer to the work under study. The difference between a review and other newspaper genres lies primarily in the fact that the subject of a review is not the direct facts of reality on which essays, correspondence, sketches, reports, etc. are based, but informational phenomena - books, brochures, performances, films, TV shows.

The review, as a rule, considers one or two works and gives them an appropriate assessment, without setting itself other, more complex tasks. In the same case, when a journalist, on the basis of a deep analysis of a work, puts forward some socially significant problems, his work will rather not be a review, but a literary-critical article or an art history study (remember “What is Oblomovism?” N. Dobrolyubova, “Bazarov” D. Pisareva).

The question of what to review is of paramount importance to the author's anger. It is clear that the reviewer is simply not able to cover all the phenomena of cultural or scientific life with his attention, and this is impossible due to the limited capabilities of the media. Therefore, as a rule, the most outstanding performances, books, films are reviewed, including “scandalous” works, that is, those that have touched the attention of the public. The review, of course, should pursue some practical goal - to tell the audience about what really deserves its attention, and about what is unworthy of its attention, to help it better understand the issues of the area that the reviewed work concerns.

The review should be clear in content and form, accessible to the category of readers, listeners, viewers to whom it is addressed. To do this, the reviewer must deeply study the work under review, taking into account the principles and rules that guided the writer, scientist or artist, be able to use analysis methods and be fluent in the language of the work under review. But the main task of the reviewer is to see in the work under review what is invisible to the uninitiated. And this is difficult to do without having special knowledge in a certain field of activity (literature, theatrical life, art, etc.). This knowledge cannot replace ordinary life experience or intuition. The more specialized knowledge the author has, the more chances he has to prepare a truly professional review. comment publication genre review

The basis of the review is the analysis, so it is necessary that it be comprehensive, objective. The author must be able to notice in the analyzed work something new that can become a “center” around which his thoughts and judgments will “revolve”. Very often, reviewers focus on retelling the plot lines of the work, characterizing the actions of the characters. This should not be an end in itself. Only if such a retelling is organically woven into the fabric of the analysis does it become justified. This way of reviewing will be especially unsuccessful when the audience knows the work in question well.

During the review, the author can analyze only one side of the work - the theme, the skill of the author or performer, the work of the director, etc. However, he can expand the subject of his research, consider in a complex a set of problems associated with the work under discussion, in including those that go beyond the scope of its content. As V. G. Belinsky wrote on this occasion, “each work of art must certainly be considered in relation to the era, to historical modernity, and in relation to the artist to society; consideration of his life, character can also often serve to elucidate his creation. On the other hand, it is impossible to lose sight of the strictly aesthetic requirements of art. Let's say more: determining the degree of aesthetic merit of a work should be the first task of criticism. Indeed, the artificial narrowing of the scope of analysis in a number of cases sharply reduces the social weight of the review.

When preparing a publication, the reviewer can actively involve elements of historical, psychological, sociological analysis, which will undoubtedly make his speech more relevant and weighty.

Regardless of which way the reviewer goes, the basis of his speech will be some very specific thought (idea). Therefore, the review in a certain sense is a demonstrative reasoning, argumentation of the main idea of ​​the author. At the heart of this reasoning lies the framework for external evaluation, which was already discussed at the beginning of this book. Recall that the external assessment is built according to the type of the following statement: “A is good because it helps to achieve B...”. When discussing the work of an artist or writer, the reviewer can evaluate it as good or bad, based on certain consequences that such a work has. These consequences can be very different, for example: the creation of a misconception about reality, the formation of bad taste in the reader, the viewer, the excitation of base interests, etc. All such consequences are the very “B” that is present in the logical scheme of external evaluation. The first part of the external assessment “A is good...” can be called the main thesis of the review, and the second part: “because it helps to achieve B” is the argument in its favor. The validity of the main thesis depends on the completeness, sufficiency, and reliability of the argument. What can be an argument in a review? This is the knowledge, experience, life observations of the author; the content of the work under review, excerpts from it and its form; the attitude of other people, specialists, experts to this work; logical consequences of the publication of the work.

So, the primary element of the review is the thesis disclosed in the publication. It is also called the main thesis, if the reasoning has a rather complex form and includes some additional (secondary) theses. The content of the theses is the result of the research conducted by the author of the review. At the same time, they reflect the worldview of the author, and his awareness of this issue, understanding it. Not all abstracts are usually developed, filled with new meaning, not all of them can even be perceived as abstracts, since the text contains the main thesis for which all the rest “work”. Because of this, additional theses can act as arguments in relation to the main one.

Knowing that abstracts need to be substantiated, reviewers often use rich illustrative material for this. It would seem that this is very good - the richer the illustrations, the more substantiated the ideas of the author, the more interesting the review itself. In fact, too much illustration can be detrimental to a review because it can overshadow the ideas the author intended to convey to the audience.

Reviews can be combined into certain typological groups for one reason or another. Here are examples of this typology:

a) Based on their length, reviews can be divided into large (“grand reviews”) and small (“mini reviews”). A large, detailed review is the “nail” of a newspaper or magazine issue ~ the prerogative, first of all, of specialized publications. A large volume gives the author the opportunity to cover the topic under study in sufficient depth and comprehensively. Such reviews are usually prepared by venerable critics who have authority with the public and have stable socio-political, philosophical and moral views. Mini-reviews are currently much more widespread than expanded ones. Usually up to one and a half typewritten pages, such a review is a concise, rich analysis of a particular work and is read in one breath. A small volume does not allow the author to turn around, leaves no room for digressions, personal impressions, memories - everything that in a grand review serves primarily as a means of “presenting” the personality of the writer. In a mini-review, the thought of criticism should be short, concise, as accurate as possible.

b) According to the number of analyzed works, all reviews can be divided into “mono-reviews” and “poly-reviews”. In publications of the first type, one work is analyzed, although the author, of course, can make some comparisons and mention other works for this purpose. But the amount of comparative material in the mono-review is very small. In a polyreview, two or more works are analyzed, they are usually compared one with the other, and such an analysis occupies a rather large space. In mono-reviews, the author usually compares the analyzed new work with the one already known to the audience. In the polyreview, a comparative analysis of newly created works that are not known or little known to the audience is carried out.

c) According to the topic, reviews are divided into literary, theatrical, film reviews, etc. Recently, along with the types of reviews already well known to the public, reviews of a new type are published - reviews of animated and non-fiction films, television reviews, reviews of advertising and other clips, This is due to the fact that the volume of animated and documentary films, television programs full of dramatic conflicts, life content, as well as a sharp increase in advertising products, has grown significantly.

Preparing a review of one type or another involves overcoming difficulties of varying degrees. One of the most difficult types of reviews is film and theater reviews. So, if in a review of a literary or visual work, the critic deals only with this work itself, the skill of its author, then in the theater, in cinema, on television, in concert, directors, actors, musicians, designers, etc. The work of the performing team as a whole and of each author separately should be assessed in this case by a review. In such works, the critic faces a difficult task - to combine a purposeful analysis of the author's and director's intentions with a description of the creative embodiment. The matter becomes even more complicated when the author of the review makes it his task to compare the literary source with the film adaptation or theatrical staging. It can be very difficult to agree on all three or even four “layers” of such a review - the original source, the play based on it, the director's interpretation of the play, embodied in the performance, the author's performance - it can be very difficult.

Creating a good review of works of synthetic genres (theatre, cinema, performing arts) is always determined by the professional ability of the critic to evaluate all aspects of the work. Often success is predetermined by the right choice of any one aspect. So, for example, it makes no sense to “spread the thought along the tree”, evaluating the content of Griboedov’s play “Woe from Wit”, because it has already survived dozens of generations of spectators and its content is known to any schoolchild. But to evaluate the director's intention, the actor's embodiment of this play, say, in the Moscow Art Theater is much more important and interesting for the reader (viewer), and for the authors of the analyzed works themselves, and for critics, for the theater in general.

An unequivocal answer to the question “For whom are reviews written?” no. On the one hand, an artist needs critical analysis first of all to help him compare his idea of ​​his own work with the opinion of a person from the outside, which the reviewer may seem to him. On the other hand, the reader and viewer also want to understand what the artist offers him. As experience shows, writing for the reader and viewer is one thing, but for the author or for other critics is another matter. Detailed professional analysis is often uninteresting and incomprehensible to the general public. And an analysis of a work aimed at the general public may turn out to be too superficial for a professional critic (and even for the author of the work). The ability to write simply about the complex, is interesting for a wide audience, and for critics, and for the authors of the analyzed works, is acquired only on the basis of deep special knowledge and experience in the criticism and popularization work of the reviewer.

According to many leading cultural figures of modern Russia, recently critics have not written anything that would give rise to new ideas, reviews are often dressed in a harsh ironic form, they are more like personal opuses than professional publications. At the same time, the credibility of criticism is achieved primarily by a principled attitude to the work being reviewed, the desire for an objective, reasoned analysis, which a young journalist must remember.

Dobrolyubov - theorist of "real criticism"

Dobrolyubov became famous among his contemporaries as a theorist of "real criticism". He put forward this concept and gradually developed it. “Real Criticism” is the criticism of Belinsky, Chernyshevsky, brought by Dobrolyubov to classically clear postulates and methods of analysis with one goal - to reveal the social benefit of works of art, to direct all literature towards a comprehensive denunciation of social orders. The term "real criticism" goes back to the concept of "realism". But the term "realism", used by Annenkov in 1849, has not yet taken root. Dobrolyubov modified it, interpreting it in a certain way as a special concept.

In principle, in all the methodological devices of "real criticism" everything is similar to the methods of Belinsky and Chernyshevsky. But sometimes something important was narrowed down and simplified. This is especially evident in the interpretation of the links between criticism and literature, criticism with life, and problems of artistic form. It turned out that criticism is not so much the disclosure of the ideological and aesthetic content of works, but the application of works to the requirements of life itself.

The consistently carried out “real” approach often led not to an objective analysis of what is in the work, but to a judgment on it from inevitably subjective positions, which seemed to the critic the most “real”, the most worthy of attention ... Outwardly, the critic, it seems, nothing imposes, but he relies more on his competence, his verification, and, as it were, does not fully trust the cognitive power of the artist himself as a discoverer of truths. Therefore, the “norm”, volumes, and angles of what is depicted in the works were not always correctly defined. It is no coincidence that Pisarev, from the standpoint of the same “real criticism”, entered into a polemic with Dobrolyubov about the image of Katerina from The Thunderstorm, dissatisfied with the degree of civic criticism embedded in it ... But where was the merchant Katerina to get him? Dobrolyubov was right in evaluating this image as "a ray of light in a dark kingdom."

"Real Criticism" theoretically took on almost nothing in relation to the study of the biography of the writer, the creative history of the work, the idea, drafts, etc. It seemed like an extraneous matter.

Dobrolyubov was right in rebelling against the "meaningfulness" in criticism. But at first he mistakenly attributed N.S. Tikhonravov and F.I. Buslaev. Dobrolyubov had to revise his statements when he was faced with efficient factual and textual clarifications and discoveries. Reviewing the seventh volume of Annenkov's edition of Pushkin's works, Dobrolyubov stated that Pushkin appeared in his mind somewhat differently; Pushkin's article on Radishchev, critical notes, newly discovered poems "Oh, the muse of fiery satire!" shook the former opinion of Pushkin as a “pure artist”, devoted to religious sentiments, who fled from the “rabble of the uninitiated”.

Although theoretically the question of the analysis of the artistic form of works was posed by Dobrolyubov in insufficient detail - and this is the lack of "real criticism", - in practice, Dobrolyubov can establish several interesting approaches to this problem.

Dobrolyubov often analyzed the form in detail in order to ridicule the emptiness of content, for example, in Benediktov's "effervescent" verses, M. Rosenheim's mediocre "accusatory" verses, N. Lvov's and A. Potekhin's comedies, and M. I. Voskresensky's stories.

In his most important articles, Dobrolyubov seriously analyzed the artistic form of the works of Goncharov, Turgenev, Ostrovsky.

Dobrolyubov demonstrated how "artism took its toll" in Oblomov. The public was indignant at the fact that the hero of the novel did not act during the entire first part, that in the novel the author evaded sharp contemporary issues. Dobrolyubov saw the "extraordinary richness of the content of the novel" and began his article "What is Oblomovism?" from the characteristics of Goncharov's unhurried talent, his inherent enormous power of typification, which perfectly corresponded to the accusatory trend of his time. The novel is "stretched", but this is what makes it possible to describe an unusual "object" - Oblomov. Such a hero should not act: here, as they say, the form fully corresponds to the content and follows from the character of the hero and the talent of the author. Reviews about the epilogue in Oblomov, the artificiality of the image of Stolz, the scene that reveals the prospect of a possible break between Olga and Stolz - these are all artistic analyzes.

And vice versa, analyzing only the activities of the energetic Insarov mentioned, but not shown by Turgenev in "On the Eve", Dobrolyubov believed that "the main artistic shortcoming of the story" lies in the declarative nature of this image. The image of Insarov is pale in outline and does not stand before us with complete clarity. What he does, his inner world, even love for Elena is closed to us. But the love theme has always worked out for Turgenev.

Dobrolyubov establishes that only in one point Ostrovsky's "Thunderstorm" is built according to the "rules": Katerina violates the duty of marital fidelity and is punished for it. But in all other respects, the laws of "exemplary drama" in The Thunderstorm are "violated in the most cruel way." The drama does not inspire respect for duty, passion is not fully developed, there are many extraneous scenes, the strict unity of action is violated. The character of the heroine is dual, the denouement is random. But, starting from the caricatured "absolute" aesthetics, Dobrolyubov perfectly revealed the aesthetics that the writer himself created. He made profoundly correct remarks about Ostrovsky's poetics.

The most complex and not entirely justified case of a polemical analysis of the form of a work can be found in the article Downtrodden People (1861). There is no open polemic with Dostoevsky. Dostoevsky reproached Dobrolyubov for neglecting artistry in art.

Dobrolyubov told his opponent the following: if you care about artistry, then from this point of view your novel is worthless or, in any case, is below aesthetic criticism; and yet we shall speak of it because in it there is a "pain about man" that is precious in the eyes of real criticism, i.e., everything redeems the content. But can we say that Dobrolyubov was right about everything here? If such a device could easily be applied to some Lvov or Potekhin, then it looked somehow strange in relation to Dostoevsky, already highly appreciated by Belinsky, and whose novel The Humiliated and Insulted, for all its shortcomings, is a classic work of Russian literature .

In the aesthetic concept of Dobrolyubov, the problems of satire and nationality are of great importance.

Dobrolyubov was dissatisfied with the state of contemporary satire, especially since opportunistic "accusatory" literature appeared. He expressed this in the article "Russian satire in the age of Catherine" (1859). The external reason for considering the issue was the book by A. Afanasyev "Russian satirical magazines of 1769-1774". Afanasiev's book was a response to the period of "glasnost" and exaggerated the social successes of satire in Russian literature of the 18th century, the development of satire in Russian literature. Dobrolyubov noted with praise in the article “Russian satire in the age of Catherine” such works of the 18th century as “An excerpt from a journey to ***”, and now attributed to Novikov, then to Radishchev, the famous “Experience of a Russian Soslovnik” by Fonvizin, which caused a sharp cry from the queen.

Dobrolyubov was right in raising the criteria for evaluating satire in general. But he clearly underestimated the satire of the 18th century. He approached it too utilitarian, not historically. Dobrolyubov proceeded from a scheme that was not fixed in science: "... satire appeared with us as an imported fruit, and not at all as a product developed by the people's life itself" 1 . If Belinsky allowed such a statement in relation to Russian literature with its odes, madrigals, then in any case, the satirical direction, even in the form in which it began with Kantemir, he always considered self-originating, artless.

Dobrolyubov’s generalization was also unhistorical: “... the nature of the entire satire of Catherine’s time is distinguished by the most sincere respect for existing regulations and the prosecution of only abuses alone.” Here clearly the 18th century is judged according to the criteria of the 60s of the 19th century. In Novikov's time, one still had to learn how to attack at least abuses; there was also Catherine's "impersonal" satire on vices in general.

In general, Dobrolyubov's conclusion about satire was as follows: "But her weak side was that she did not want to see the fundamental rubbishness of the mechanism that she was trying to correct."

It is clear that Dobrolyubov's harsh analyzes and sentences regarding the satire of the 18th century had their purpose. He wanted satire not petty, but combative, directed against the social exploitative system. By this he expressed his revolutionary-democratic aspirations, the desire to raise the criteria of modern satire, to oppose it to liberal accusations. But Dobrolyubov solved a difficult question too didactically. These goals should not have violated the concrete historical analysis of what the satire of the 18th century was able to do in its time. Only on the basis of a true generalization of historical experience could one indicate the prospects and tasks for Russian criticism of the 60s of the 19th century. Chernyshevsky was more circumspect and stricter in his assessments of the past.

Somewhat vaguely Dobrolyubov interprets the concept of "nationality", it is vague in the very title of a special article "On the degree of participation of the nationality in the development of Russian literature" (1858). What exactly is meant by nationality? Ethnographic elements, folk aspirations, the people as a theme for writers or the participation of writers from the people in literary life? What was meant by the people themselves? All the peasants, or the middle strata of society along with them? Dobrolyubov used this word in different senses. And the peasants are the people, and Katerina, the merchant's wife, is the heroine of the people.

Extremely strong in this article is the tendency to consider all the literature from one angle. Bestuzhev reviewed it from the point of view of the development of civic motives from Boyan to Ryleev. Belinsky - from the point of view of rapprochement with life and the development of realism. Chernyshevsky surveyed the "school of Gogol" and the "school of ideas" of Belinsky from a sociological angle. Dobrolyubov's aspect is characteristic of the pre-reform years: everything was measured by the yardstick of "people's" life. But some uncertainty of the criterion is evident.

Dobrolyubov’s general principle of understanding the writer’s nationality is as follows: “To be a truly national poet, one must<...>imbued with the spirit of the people, live his life, become on a par with him, discard all the prejudices of classes, book teaching<...>and feel everything with that simple feeling that the people have.

It is quite obvious that Dobrolyubov oversimplified this complex issue.

It seems to Dobrolyubov that there were two processes in literature: the gradual loss of the national, folk principle in the post-Petrine era and then its gradual revival. This process dragged on so much that, in fact, almost no writer Dobrolyubov could call folk. “It is also in vain that we have the loud name of folk writers: the people, unfortunately, do not at all care about the artistry of Pushkin, the captivating sweetness of Zhukovsky’s poems, Derzhavin’s lofty soaring, etc. Let’s say more: even Gogol’s humor and Krylov’s sly simplicity are not at all reached the people."

Everything is decided by the critic too straightforwardly: "Lomonosov did a lot for the success of science in Russia ... but in relation to the social significance of literature, he did nothing." Lomonosov has not a word about serfdom. Dobrolyubov recognizes only direct, visual forms of service. Derzhavin moved only "a little" in his view of the people, their needs and attitudes. Karamzin's point of view is "still abstract and extremely aristocratic." Zhukovsky "reproduced only one of the Russian nationality ... and this one is the superstition of the people" (in "Svetlana" - V. K). Pushkin, with all his enormous merits as an artist, "understood only the form of the Russian nationality" Gogol "found more strength in himself", but his depiction of the vulgarity of life "terrified"; he dumped all the sins not on the government, but on the people. "No, we are decidedly dissatisfied with Russian satire, excluding the satires of the Gogol period."

Of course, such an analysis outlined some higher tasks for literature. "Holy" discontent was seething in Dobrolyubov. But it was doubtful to push the matter forward with such one-sided, extreme judgments that destroyed the accumulated historical experience. After all, Belinsky already knew that almost all of the listed writers were truly folk, each to the extent of his talent and time. The artistic immortality of the work was generally not taken into account by Dobrolyubov.

P. N. TKACHEV Storehouse of wisdom of Russian philosophers M., Pravda, 1990

PRINCIPLES AND OBJECTIVES OF REAL CRITICISM
(Dedicated to the editors of the "Words")

The newly emerging critic of the young Slovo in his debut article ("Thoughts on the Criticism of Literary Creativity", B.D.P., Slovo, May) 1 declares on behalf of the entire Russian reading public that she, the public, is extremely dissatisfied with modern critics and their activities. True, he says, "our public does not sufficiently state its demands: it has not yet become a custom for Russian readers to constantly turn to the editors of magazines and newspapers with literary statements." But criticism, however, managed to "overhear here and there the talk of more or less developed readers, in which dissatisfaction with the criticism of literary creativity is just as (if not more) strong as dissatisfaction with the merits of works of art." Based on these overheard rumors, the critic concludes that now "the time has come to sort out a little bit in the mutual bickering between writers and their critical judges." What kind of bickering exists "between fiction writers and their critical judges" I don't know; at least, there are no traces of such bickering in printed sources. But let's believe Mr. B.D.P. at his word (after all, he eavesdropped!), let us assume with him that the gentlemen of Russian fiction are dissatisfied with modern criticism, that they have a certain grudge against it. It is all the easier to admit this because, in fact, modern criticism (I am, of course, not talking about Moscow criticism - it does not count. G. P. D. B., i.e. B. D. P., has in view of real criticism, therefore, criticism of St. Petersburg), and in particular the criticism of the journal Delo, refers to our writers of all three "formations" (Mr. B. D. P. divides all Russian writers into three formations: the formation of the late 1950s and early 1960s, and finally the formation of the 1970s. P. D. Boborykin, along with Pomyalovsky and Reshetnikov. G. B. D. P., as you can see, is very kind to Mr. P. D. B. However, we must do him justice: he is kind not only to his own " book" (if I may say so), he is kind to all belletristic mediocrity and mediocrity in general ...) not very favorably. It is quite understandable that fiction writers, in turn, pay her the same coin. Nevertheless, from this mutual dissatisfaction of critics with fiction writers and fiction writers with critics, no serious "arguments" have ever occurred and cannot occur. Arguments can take place between critics of the same or different directions, about their views on a particular work of fiction, but not between a critic of this work and its creator. Fictionist X may be extremely dissatisfied with critic Z, who has analyzed his work too strictly. But if he had taken it into his head to object to criticism, he would obviously have put himself in an extremely awkward and ridiculous position. Clever or simply somewhat self-respecting fiction writers understand this very well, and therefore, no matter how hostile feelings they have in the depths of their souls towards criticism, they will never dare to declare these feelings publicly; they always try to keep them to themselves, they pretend that criticism, no matter how it speaks of them, does not interest them at all and that they are completely indifferent to it. Of course, such tactful restraint cannot be demanded of all writers of fiction in general: writers who are stupid and, especially, untalented are usually unable to hide the feeling of irritation and anger that criticism naturally arouses in them, revealing to everyone their stupidity and mediocrity. They really wouldn't be averse to arguing with her... But who would want to "understand" these "arguments"? For whom is it not obvious that a novelist can never be a serious and impartial appraiser of his critics and that, consequently, all his "arguments" will always be of a purely personal nature, and will always be based on a personal feeling of offended pride? Mr. B.D.P. thinks otherwise. He believes that these wranglings deserve serious attention and even require some kind of arbitration between "fiction writers and their critical judges." At the same time, Mr. B.D.P. modestly offers himself in the role of arbitrator. Why does Mr. B.D.P. think so? and why he considers himself capable of this role, anyone who only takes the trouble to read the second article of the same B.D.P. will easily understand. about modern fiction, placed in the July book. "Words" 2 . On the basis of this article, we are not at all afraid of making a mistake, we have every right to conclude that Mr. B.D.P. undoubtedly belongs to the number of those stupid and untalented writers of whom we have just spoken. Indeed, who else would have thought to burn Russian fiction with those incense of flattery and praise that Mr. B.D.P. burns to it? Russian fiction, according to this gentleman, can easily withstand comparison with the fiction of any country in the Old and New Worlds. It is teeming with talents: in St. Petersburg - Leskov, Boborykin, a cornet of lancers (however, perhaps he is now a lieutenant?) Krestovsky 3, some Vsevolod Garshin (however, I probably don’t know where Vsevolod Garshin actually shines, in Moscow or Petersburg); in Moscow. .. in Moscow - the city of Nezlobii. Who is Nezlobin? 4 What did he write? Where does he write? Of course, reader, you do not know this. I will tell you. Gentleness scribbles from time to time, and, moreover, in the most illiterate and inept way, police reports on the pages of the Russian Messenger, in a fictional, of course, form and in the taste of Vsevolod Krestovsky, Leskov, the eternal memory of Avenarius and the "guardians-denunciators" of "The Citizen". In the opinion of Mr. B.D.P., this non-malicious "informer" (Indeed, his fictional denunciations shine not so much with malice, but with absurdity and remarkable illiteracy.), In all likelihood, he got into the Russky Vestnik directly from some police station, distinguished by a rather prominent talent, a talent in no way inferior to that of Mr. Leskov (good, however, praise!). "Reviewers," Mr. B.D.P. ". Conservative direction! Well, Mr. B.D.P., gg. conservatives will hardly thank you for introducing the police writer of the Russkiy Vestnik to their ranks. How! to turn fiction into an instrument of dirty gossip and denunciation, to use art for petty personal purposes - does this mean, in your opinion, to adhere to a "conservative direction"? However, the point is not whether Nezlobii adheres to a conservative or non-conservative trend, in any case, according to Mr. BDP, he is a talent, and a talent no less remarkable than Leskov. Once it is confirmed that Mr. Gentleness and Leskov are more or less outstanding talents, we willy-nilly must admit that both Mr. Boborykin and Prince. Meshchersky, and even Nemirovich-Danchenko, are also talents, and also outstanding talents. But if the Nezlobins, Leskovs, Boborykins and Co. are talents, what can be said about Tolstoy, Turgenev, Dostoevsky, Goncharov, Pisemsky? Obviously, these will be stars of the first magnitude, "pearls and adamants" 5 of fiction, and not only domestic fiction, but pan-European, world-wide fiction. And indeed, “with our first-class fiction writers, according to Mr. B.D.P., among English fiction writers, only George Eliot can be compared, and even partly (it’s good partly!) Trolope; from German they are a little closer: Shpilhagen and Auerbach. As for France, it’s almost not worth talking about it; true, the French have Zola and Daudet, but what are Zola and Daudet compared even with our non-primary fiction writers, for example, with some Boborykin, Nezlobin, Leskov and the like? "Had our fiction writers," asserts Mr. BDP, "the fecundity of Zola or Daudet, our fiction would stand above the French." Therefore, if the works of Boborykins, Leskovs, Nezlobins, and are inferior to the works of Flaubert, the Goncourt brothers, Zola, Daudet, then by no means in quality, but only in quantity. Write, for example, Mr. Boborykin or Mr. Nezlobii twice, three times as much as they write now, and we would have no need to fill thick magazines with translated French novels, and our fiction, to put it vulgarly, "would wipe its nose French." But what would be the position of Russian readers then? Wouldn't they have forgotten how, what good, to read completely? About this Mr. B.D.P. didn't think. He also lost sight of the fact that if we begin to judge Mr. Boborykin, on the one hand, and Daudet and Flaubert, on the other, not by the quality of their works, but by their quantity, not by what they wrote , and by how much printed paper they have exhausted, then, perhaps, the palm will have to be given to the "Russian" novelist. To conclude his advertisement for Russian fiction, Mr. B.D.P. solemnly declares that if "we have nothing to boast of before Europe in other areas of thought, then we can rightly be proud of our fiction" ("Motives and methods of Russian fiction", p. 61, "Word", June). Of course! After all, we are proud of our patience and our endurance; how then can we not be proud of our Boborykins, Nezlobins, Leskovs, Krestovskys, Nemirovich-Danchenkos and others like them! I believe that no sane and prudent person would ever come to mind about this with Mr. B.D.P. in any dispute. When you are walking through a flea market and an annoying shopkeeper grabs you by the skirts of your coat and, swearing that he has goods - "first class, straight from the factory, excellent value, he sells it at a loss," he tries to lure you into his shop , you - if you are a prudent and sensible person - of course, will not begin to prove to him the falsity and dishonesty of his assurances: you will try to quickly pass by; you know that every shopkeeper tends to praise his shop. To praise the Russian fiction shop in the same way as Mr. B.D.P. praises it, to assert that its products not only can successfully compete with the goods of any foreign fiction shop, but even surpass the latter in many respects in their good quality, perhaps, obviously , only either a person who himself belongs to this shop, or a person who has not crossed its threshold all his life, has been eating its products all his life and has not seen anything better than them and does not know. .. In both cases, arguing with him is equally useless. A shopkeeper who sells rotten goods will never dare to admit that his goods are really rotten and worthless. To the unfortunate reader, who has been brought up on the novels of some ... well, at least Mr. Boborykin and has never read anything other than these novels, it will always seem that there is no better and more talented writer in the world than Boborykin. Does Mr. B.D.P. among those shopkeepers who sell rotten goods - for me, yes, of course, for you too. reader, it's completely irrelevant. For us, it was only interesting to find out the fact of his relationship to Russian fiction. This fact needs no further comment. He clearly shows us how much Mr. B.D.P. is able to figure in the role of an impartial arbiter between fiction writers and their critics; he predetermines, so to speak, his relations with the latter. Indeed, if modern Russian fiction is the glory and pride of our motherland, the only thing that "we can justifiably be proud of in front of Europe," then modern criticism that treats this fiction negatively should be our shame and our dishonor: it undermines our national fame, it tries to take away from us even the little that we can be proud of before the civilized world ... Modern critics and reviewers who dare not see in Turgenev a "great artist" and doubt the genius of Tolstoy and the talent of Boborykin and Nezlobin - this , obviously, or enemies of the fatherland, victims of an insidious (of course, English) intrigue, or blind people, complete ignoramuses, who understand as much in artistic creativity as a pig in oranges. G.B.D.P. generously inclines in favor of the latter assumption. He does not want to bring unfortunate critics under the articles of laws punishing high treason. Not; in his opinion, they are simply insane, they themselves do not know what they are doing: "they repeat only well-known phrases about artistry and creative work, in which there is almost never an original mental initiative, no definite method in the study of the very process of creativity, even approximation to scientific and philosophical work" (Thoughts on Criticism of Literary Creativity, Slovo, May, p. 59). Our criticism is "devoid of guiding devices" (p. 68); among the critics, complete "mental arbitrariness" dominates (ib., p. 69); they are all characterized by "inconsistency, dispersion, extreme subjectivity of opinions and opinions" (ib. , p. 68), and especially "sad tendentiousness." This sad tendentiousness prevents criticism, in the opinion of the author, from an impartial attitude towards the creative forces of the novelist; "quite often a gifted person (like, for example, Boborykin or Nezlo-bin) he treats as mediocrity and vice versa, when a mediocre work serves his journalistic goals" ... "A rare critic does not allow himself personal attacks (on fiction writers), and often very insulting. A tone of mockery became at one time prevailing among us even over the most talented fiction writers. A rare reviewer is able to separate the purely literary sphere from attacks on the personality of the author. Many completely lose their intuition and understanding of this difference ... "(ib.) . In a word, our criticism does not stand up to the slightest criticism; it is untenable in all respects and completely incapable of rising to an understanding and a sober assessment of the works of not only our "great" fiction artists, but also of "medium" and "small" fiction writers. Another criticism of the Dobrolyubov period, that is, the beginning of the 60s, was, according to B.D.P., back and forth. True, she adhered to a purely journalistic direction, but then (why only then?) This direction had "a complete raison d" être "(ib., p. 60). Whatever her advantages and disadvantages, she is still " progressed positively, developed her own methods, expanded more and more the area of ​​​​issues related to works of art, spoke deeper and bolder ... "etc., etc., and most importantly, in the midst of the journalistic trend of literary criticism reviewers did not like to complain about the lack of talent" (p. 61). This, it seems, is what B.J.P. likes the most. Is it just true? Does his memory fail him? However, it doesn't matter. In any case, the criticism of the early 60s and late 50s seems to be B.D.P. far from being as reprehensible as the latest criticism. However, admitting that the latter in its inner content is incomparably lower than the former, he at the same time apparently gives preference to the direction of criticism of the 70s over the criticism of the 60s. The critics of the 60s, you see, completely lost sight of the "artistic side" of fiction, and the critics of the 70s do not lose sight of it. They recognized (this is all Mr. B.D.P. says) the one-sidedness of the exclusively journalistic direction of criticism and, much more boldly than their predecessors, they began to talk about "literary creativity", in other words, from critics-publicists they gradually begin to turn into critics. -estheticians. G. B. D. P. seems to be pleased with this, but, unfortunately, the latest critics lack "no scientific basis in everything that relates to the creative process; as a result, their assessments are purely personal and formal, are reduced to manifestations of subjective taste ... "They (i.e., critics) do not feel the slightest need to look back at themselves", among them "no requests are heard, no demands for new techniques, a stronger foundation, more conformity with a level of knowledge that could be guiding in this matter" (p. 62). They repeat the aphorisms of the old aesthetics, fall into constant contradictions with themselves, and in general, the critic of modern criticism concludes, “we see that the reaction in the name of the independence of art (?), which is in itself reasonable and useful, has not found an updated spirit, did not find people with a different background, capable of transferring criticism of creativity to the ground, which, with all its shortcomings, can give at least some positive results" (p. 63). This ground, according to Mr. BDP, is psychology. “As long as critics,” he says, “do not recognize the absolute need to deal with the mental foundations of writers’ creativity, until then they will constantly indulge in purely subjective views and manifestations of taste ...” (ib.). He further believes that "the mere recognition of this principle would already be beneficial" and that its application to the evaluation of works of art will free criticism from the chaos of "subjective views and manifestations of personal taste", give it, so to speak, an objective lining. Evidently, Mr. B.D.P., whose language never leaves the words: "science", "scientific methods", "scientific-philosophical development", "scientific methods", etc., is familiar with science, at least with science, which, in his opinion, should form the basis of real criticism, exactly the same as with Western European fiction. He heard from someone that there is such a science, or rather a quasi-science, which deals with the study of questions about the processes of creativity; but how she explores them and what she knows about them, no one told him that. Otherwise, he probably would not have dared to assert with such comic aplomb that the subjectivism of literary criticism comes from its insufficient acquaintance with the research of psychologists in the field of artistic creativity. He would have known then that these studies are carried out with the help of a purely subjective method, that they are extremely arbitrary and cannot provide any firm objective point of support for evaluating a work of art. He would then know that the few questions that modern psychology is able to resolve by strictly scientific methods have nothing directly to do with the criticism of literary creativity. However, I do not at all intend to talk about psychology here; still less does he intend to defend this or that critic, or contemporary criticism in general, from the attacks of Mr. B.D.P. These attacks, due to their unsubstantiated nature, cannot even be subject to serious analysis. But the point is not at all in their content, but in their general meaning, in their general direction. Judging by this general sense, we must conclude that Mr. B.D.P. does not have the slightest idea of ​​the nature and basic principles of real criticism; he does not understand at all how exactly it differs and must differ from psychological-metaphysical criticism and empirical criticism; he considers Zola a representative of true real criticism and wonders why Russian realist critics do not want to recognize him as "their own", why they reproach him for being one-sided, for the narrowness of his critical world outlook. He cannot explain to himself such an attitude of Russian critics towards Zola otherwise than as their apostasy from realism, and calls their criticism quasi-real. This example alone is enough to show the depth of misunderstanding of Mr. B.D.P. principles of realism and real criticism. With such a misunderstanding of the latter, there is nothing strange that Mr. B.D.P. reproaches her for subjectivism, for the absence of any guiding ideas, etc.; that he constantly confuses it now with purely aesthetic criticism, now with purely journalistic criticism... Of course, it makes absolutely no difference to us whether some B.D.P. understands or does not understand. tasks and principles of real criticism; and if it were only about his personal understanding or misunderstanding, then it would not be worth talking about. But the trouble is that it is shared with him by quite a few, and not only by profane readers, but often even by critics themselves. Recall, reader, that a few years ago, almost the same accusations that are now leveled against her in the "Lay" by Mr. BDP were also leveled in "Otechestvennye Zapiski" by Mr. Skabichevsky. And if Mr. Skabichevsky, who himself is on the staff of realist critics, does not understand the principles of real criticism, reproaches it for the lack of scientific foundations, for subjectivism, etc., then what kind of understanding will you demand from Mr. B.D. .P., and even more so from the majority of the ordinary public? Therefore, we are willing to believe Mr. B.D.P. that his opinion about our contemporary real criticism is only an echo of the common current opinion that he speaks not for himself and not for himself alone, but or and per all "more or less developed readers." Needless to say, Mr. belletrists (of the stupid and untalented), who have their reasons to be dissatisfied with modern criticism, try to further aggravate this misunderstanding, supporting and spreading the opinion that this criticism is completely incapable of understanding and appreciating their creations, that it repeats only backsides - backsides that have lost now all her raison d "être, as if she is guided in her sentences not by some scientific principles, but by purely personal feelings and preconceived tendencies, etc. Realist critics, for their part, treat all these accusations with complete indifference, as if it were not about them at all, not one of them has ever made any serious attempt to formulate a theory of real criticism, to clarify its main principles, its general character and main tasks. both for themselves and especially for the public; their critical judgments would then have in the eyes of the latter incomparably more weight and significance than they do t now; readers would then see on the basis of what criteria, by virtue of what principles this or that fiction work is condemned or approved, and they would not accuse the critic of being unfounded, subjective, unscrupulous, etc. But, perhaps, our real criticism really devoid of any guiding principles, any scientific underpinning; Perhaps, indeed, it is some kind of ugly chaos, a chaos that cannot be put in order, brought under some more or less clearly defined formula? But if this is so, then the need to sort out this chaos should be felt even more urgently by all critics who consider themselves or wish to reckon themselves as realists... criticism", but, alas, as we said above, the attempt was extremely unsuccessful. Instead of trying to properly ascertain and define the spirit, direction and basic principles of this criticism, he bluntly declared that it does not have any principles and never had, that it adheres to a false direction and that in general respectable people cannot have anything to do with it. . The theory of rational criticism, in the opinion of the aforementioned critic, must be rebuilt anew, and he himself expresses the intention to personally undertake this restructuring of it. But, unfortunately, as soon as he took it into his head to start realizing his good intention, it suddenly turned out that not only did he not have any materials for the construction, but that he did not even have any clear idea about it. Picking out at random two or three elementary, well-known and, one might say, banal propositions from psychology, he imagined that the whole essence of the theory of rational criticism lies in them. However, if he only limited himself to banal psychological truisms, then this would still be nothing; but to his misfortune he took it into his head to supplement them with fabrications of his own mind and agreed to such absurdities, which now he himself is probably ashamed to remember. At one time these absurdities were exposed with sufficient clarity in the pages of the same journal 7 , and therefore I will not mention them here. It's not about them; the fact is that the unsuccessful foray of the critic of Otechestv. Zapiski against real criticism did not evoke any rebuff from our other sworn critics and reviewers, who are considered realists or, in any case, try to remain true to the Dobrolyubov traditions as much as possible. Not one of them (as far as I remember) considered himself obliged to explain to his brother how falsely and incorrectly he understood the nature of Dobrolyubov's criticism, not one took the trouble to clarify and shed light on its true meaning, its basic principles. Obviously, Messrs. critics and reviewers rely too much on the perspicacity of their readers, forgetting that gentlemen like B.J.P. often come across among these readers; of course, if Mr. B.D.P. was an isolated phenomenon, then it would not be worth talking about it. But Messrs. critics and reviewers know that "thoughts on modern criticism of creativity," - thoughts that were originally set forth on the pages of Otech. Notes, and then reproduced on the pages of Slovo, are divided, if not completely, then in part, by some part " "more or less educated" public and that this "more or less educated" part of the public really holds the opinion that the criticism of Dobrolyubov and his successors is not real criticism of artistic creation in the strict sense of the word, that it is purely journalistic criticism that once had then its raison d "être, and now it has completely lost it, and as if as a result of this it must now change its character - embark on a new road, renounce arbitrary subjectivism, develop objective, scientific criteria for evaluating works of art, etc. The fact of the existence of such an opinion—a fact which, of course, no one will deny—shows best of all to what extent the ideas of our readers (at least some of them) about the nature and direction of modern, so-called real criticism have been distorted. Therefore, it seems to me that this criticism, as well as those who sympathize with it, take its interests to heart, and wish to contribute to its success, should try as far as possible to correct these distorted ideas and, so to speak, to rehabilitate its tendencies and principles in the eyes of the entire reading public, not disdaining even Messrs. B.D.P. I am not a sworn critic, I am not even a critic at all, but as an “enlightened” reader, I naturally must wish every success to domestic criticism, since, in my opinion, of all branches of our literature, criticism is of paramount importance for us, not only for evaluating the merits and shortcomings of this literature, but also the degree of development of our intelligent minority in general. In our criticism of everything, the attitude of this minority to the phenomena of reality surrounding it, its ideals, its aspirations, its needs and interests, is most directly and directly manifested. By virtue of conditions about which it is not the place to expand here, it serves, if not the only, then, in any case, the most convenient expression of social consciousness in the field of literature. Of course, the clarity and accuracy of the expression of public consciousness in criticism are determined to a large extent by circumstances independent of criticism. However, only to a certain extent, but not completely. In part, they (that is, this clarity and this accuracy) are also determined by the properties of criticism itself - the methods adopted by it, its principles, its spirit and direction. The more scientific its methods, the more reasonable its principles, the more rational its direction, the more true, the more truthful it will serve as an echo of social consciousness. Therefore, the question of its methods, principles and direction should be of interest not only to sworn critics and reviewers, but to the entire reading public in general. Does our real criticism have any definite methods and principles; if so, are they reasonable, scientific? Are they outdated, should they not be redesigned? Is it really, by its very nature, inherent in that arbitrary subjectivism with which it is reproached by Messrs. B.D.P. and which, obviously, should make it very incapable of expressing social thought, social consciousness? To solve these questions means to define the spirit; the nature and general foundations of that critical trend, which is usually given the name of the real and whose ancestor is rightly considered Dobrolyubov. It is very possible that you and I, the reader, will not solve them, but in any case we will make an attempt to solve them, i.e. Let's make an attempt to clarify the principles and tasks of real criticism. This attempt, as far as I remember, is the first of its kind, and yet it is known that in every business the first step is the most difficult step; wherefore, if you, the reader, wish to take this first step with me, I warn you in advance, you will have to subject your patience and attention to a rather difficult and lengthy test. We will start a little from afar, almost ab ovo ... The task of criticism in relation to each given work of art usually comes down to resolving the following three questions: 1) whether the given work satisfies aesthetic taste, i. ", about "beautiful", etc.; 2) under the influence of what conditions of social life and his private life did the artist think of it, what are the historical and psychological motives that brought the work being analyzed into the light of day, and, finally, 3) are the characters and life relations reproduced in it true to reality? What social meaning do these characters and these relations have? What conditions of social life generated them? and precisely for what historical reasons were these social conditions that gave birth to them formed? In most cases, critics focus their attention on one of these issues, leaving the rest in the background or even completely ignoring them. Depending on which of the three issues is brought to the fore, criticism receives either a purely aesthetic direction, or a historical-biographical direction, or, finally, the so-called (and not quite correctly called) journalistic direction. Which of these directions most closely corresponds to the spirit and character of real criticism? Real criticism, in fact, is called real because it tries as far as possible to adhere to strictly objective grounds, carefully avoiding all arbitrary, subjective interpretations. In every work of art, two sides can be distinguished: first, the life phenomena reproduced in it; secondly, the very act of reproducing these phenomena, the so-called creative process. Both of these - both reproducible phenomena and the acts of reproducing them - represent a certain conclusion, the final result of a whole long series of various social and purely psychological facts. Some of these facts are purely objective; they may be subject to strictly scientific evaluation and classification, i.e., evaluation and classification from our subjective tastes and predispositions [independent] 8 . Others, on the contrary, belong to a group of such phenomena which, partly by their nature, partly due to the present state of science, do not lend themselves to any strictly objective definitions; the criterion for judging them is exclusively our personal feelings, our personal more or less unconscious tastes. Let's explain this with an example. Let's take some work of art, well, at least, let's say, Goncharov's "Cliff". The author, as you know, wanted to reproduce in this novel some typical representative of the generation of the 60s and his attitude to the dying world of grandfather, patriarchal views and concepts. First of all, of course, the critic should have the question: did the author succeed in fulfilling his task? Is Mark Volokhov really a typical representative of the generation of the 60s? Do people of this generation really treat the world around them the way the hero of the novel treats it? In order to resolve these questions, the critic examines the historical conditions that the generation of the 60s worked out, and, on the basis of his historical analysis, determines in general terms the character and direction of this generation; then he tries to verify his conclusion with facts from the contemporary life of this generation, and, naturally, he will have to use mainly the literary material at hand, although, of course, it would be better if he could use non-literary material as well. However, in any case, both his conclusion regarding the general character and spirit of the generation of the 1960s and the verification of this conclusion are based on facts that are quite real, quite objective, obvious to everyone, allowing for a strictly scientific assessment and development. Therefore, as long as the critic stands on quite real ground. Let us now assume that an analysis of the above facts leads him to the conclusion that Volokhov is not at all a typical representative of the generation of "children", that the author wanted to humiliate, ridicule this generation in the person of his hero, etc. Here the question arises of itself: why the author, wanting to describe the type, instead of the type gave us a caricature, a caricature? Why could he not correctly understand the reality reproduced by him, why was it reflected in his mind in such a distorted, false form? To resolve these issues, the critic again turns to the facts of history and modern life. Carefully and comprehensively examining and comparing these facts, he comes to conclusions about the generation and the environment to which the author belongs, about the relationship of this environment to the environment and the generation of "children", etc. - conclusions that are completely objective, allowing for completely scientific verification and evaluation. Thus, in assessing the historical and social conditions that brought God's "Cliff" into the world, as well as in assessing the reality reproduced in the novel, the critic does not leave the real ground for a minute, does not leave his purely objective method for a minute. With the help of this method, he is able to determine with greater or lesser scientific accuracy the social significance and historical genesis of the phenomena that served the author as a theme for his work of art, assess the life truthfulness of the latter, and, finally, find out the general, historical and social factors that had a more or less direct influence on the very act of artistic reproduction. But having finished with these questions, the critic has not yet exhausted his whole task. Let us assume that Mark Volokhov is not a typical person, let us suppose that this is a completely isolated phenomenon that has no serious social significance; but still he represents a certain character. Has this character survived? Is it well crafted? Is it real from a psychological point of view? etc. A very thorough psychological analysis is required for a satisfactory solution of these questions; but psychological analysis, given the state of psychology, always has and must inevitably have a more or less subjective character. Exactly the same subjective character will be imprinted on the conclusions to which the criticism of this analysis will lead. Therefore, these conclusions almost never allow for any precise objective assessment and almost always are somewhat problematic. A character that, for example, with my psychological observation, with my psychological experience, may seem to me unnatural, unrestrained, alien to "psychological truth", to another person, with more or less psychological experience and observation, will, on the contrary, appear to be extremely natural, restrained. that fully satisfies all the requirements of psychological truth. Who among us is right, who is wrong? It's good if it's about some ordinary, widespread character, about some ordinary, more or less well-known psychological phenomena. Here, too, each of us has the opportunity to defend our view, referring either to ordinary, well-known everyday facts, or to such psychological observations and positions that, due to their elementary nature and universal recognition, have acquired almost objective reliability. In this case, therefore, the question can still be resolved, if not completely, then at least with approximate accuracy and objectivity. But after all, criticism does not always deal with ordinary characters, with well-known psychological phenomena. Sometimes (and even quite often) she has to analyze characters that are completely exceptional, feelings and mental moods that go out of the ordinary. Take, for example, the characters of "The Idiot" or the merchant's "son of a reveler" in Mr. Dostoevsky's novel "The Idiot," or the character of the animal-like landowner in the novel "Crime and Punishment" by the same author. Well, how and how can you prove to me that such characters are possible in reality, that there is not the slightest psychological lie in them? On the other hand, with what and how can I prove to you that these characters are impossible, that they do not satisfy the requirements of psychological truth? The science of the "human soul", of the human "character" is in such an infantile state that it cannot give us any positive, reliable indications on this score. She herself wanders in the dark, she herself is thoroughly saturated with subjectivism; consequently, there can be no question of any scientific objective solution to our dispute. All our argumentation will exclusively revolve around our purely personal subjective feelings and considerations that are not accessible to any objective verification (To illustrate our thought, we will refer to the following specific example. Tolstoy's "Anna Karenina" caused, as you know, many different criticisms and reviews. If you, reader, take the trouble to look through them, you will see that out of ten critics and reviewers there are not even two who would agree with each other in the psychological assessment of the characters of the main characters of the novel.One finds, for example, that Levin's character is not sustained, the other is that the author succeeded best of all.According to the critic of Dela, 9 Anna, Kitty, Prince Vronsky, Anna's husband are not living people, but mannequins, embodied abstractions of certain metaphysical entities; on the contrary, they are quite real, life-like characters, depicted with inimitable skill. and I. Mr. Markov ... it is true that he does not adduce any considerations, but confines himself to mere exclamations, but he, too, could probably adduce some considerations - considerations that would be as unconvincing for Mr. Nikitin as Mr. Nikitin's considerations for Mr. Markov. And who can say which one is right? In the end, everything here depends on that purely subjective feeling that the characters of Anna, Kitty, Vronsky, etc., produce on you. If they impress you as living people, you will agree with Markov; if not, you will agree with Nikitin. But in what particular case your subjective impression will most closely correspond to the objective truth, this is an unresolvable question at the given level of our psychological knowledge.). Thus, when evaluating characters from a psychological point of view, it is difficult and almost impossible for a critic to stay on strictly real, objective ground; willy-nilly, he has to constantly turn for help to a purely subjective method, a method that is currently dominant in psychology, and therefore, to venture into the realm of more or less arbitrary interpretations and purely personal considerations. Let's go further now. Using a partly objective, partly (and mainly) subjective method of research, the critic, one way or another, resolved the issue of the conformity of the character of Mark Volokhov and other characters in the novel with the requirements of psychological truth. Now it remains for him to decide one more question, a question of paramount importance for aesthetics: does Goncharov's work satisfy the requirements of artistic truth? Combining his direct sensory perceptions and everyday observations into more or less concrete images, the author had in mind to make a certain specific impression on us, known both in society and in science under the name of aesthetic. If he succeeded in this, if his images really make an aesthetic impression on us (or, as is usually said, satisfy our aesthetic sense), then we call them "artistic"; therefore, an artistic image, a work of art, will be such an image or such a work that arouses in us an aesthetic feeling, just as sounds of a certain length and speed, combined and repeated in a certain way, arouse in us a sense of harmony. The only difference is that we can now, with mathematical precision, in a strictly scientific and completely objective way, determine what the length, speed and combination of sounds should be in order for them to evoke in us a sense of harmony; but we have not the slightest idea of ​​how exactly human perceptions must be combined in order to arouse in us an aesthetic feeling (Aesthetic feeling, in the broad sense of the word, usually means a sense of harmony, and a sense of symmetry, and everything in general pleasant sensations experienced by us under the influence of a certain influence of external objects on our organs of sight, hearing, smell, and partly touch. But when I speak of the aesthetic feeling, I have in mind only one special kind of this feeling, precisely that feeling of pleasure that we experience when reading or listening to works of art from the field of the so-called verbal arts. I make this reservation to avoid any misunderstanding.). The feeling of harmony has its own specific organ, it is determined by the well-known physiological structure of this organ and does not in the least depend on this or that subjective mood of the listeners. No matter how many people you take, if they are all gifted with a normally developed ear, the musical chord will inevitably and necessarily cause a feeling of harmony in all of them, and dissonance - a feeling of disharmony. Therefore, a music critic, when examining a piece of music, has every opportunity to prove quite accurately, scientifically and objectively whether it satisfies and to what extent it satisfies our musical sense. The critic of fiction is in a completely different position. Science does not give him absolutely any instructions for determining those objective conditions under which an aesthetic feeling is aroused in us. One and the same work, not only on different people, but even on the same person in different years of his life, at different moments of his spiritual mood, produces different, often completely opposite, aesthetic impressions. There are readers who are esthetically delighted when contemplating the image of a "beautiful Mohammedan woman" dying on her husband's coffin, and who remain completely indifferent to Shakespeare's dramas, Dickens' novels, and so on. Boborykin, feel nothing but unbearable boredom; to others, the same writings deliver - what good - aesthetic pleasantness. G.B.D.P. experiences aesthetic pleasure when reading the works of some Nezlobin or Leskov, while in me the same works evoke nothing decisively, except for a feeling of repulsion, unpleasantness. In a word, the saying can be applied to aesthetic sensations even more than to the taste sensations of the tongue: "how many heads in the world, so many tastes and minds." Aesthetic feeling is predominantly a subjective, individual feeling, and of all human feelings, it is perhaps the least developed by scientific psychology. It is only known that this feeling is extremely complex, changeable, inconstant, and although it is determined mainly by the degree of mental and moral development of a person, we often see that even in equally mentally and morally developed people it is far from the same. Obviously, his education, in addition to mental and moral development, is largely influenced by the environment in which a person grew up and rotates, his way of life, his activities, his habits, the books he reads, the people he encounters, and finally, purely unconscious dispositions and feelings, partly inherited, partly acquired in childhood, etc., etc. It will be objected to me that the same can be said about all our derivative, complex, so-called intellectual feelings, that under the influence of our environment, our way of life, our occupations, habits, our upbringing, inherited predispositions, etc., but it does not follow from this that all of them must necessarily be so individual, changeable and changeable that we cannot compose there is no general, quite definite objective idea about them. For example, take the feeling of love, or the so-called moral feeling; no matter how they change under the influence of certain subjective characteristics of the individual, but with careful analysis, you will always discover something common, constant in their individual manifestations. Distracting this general, constant from subjective admixtures, you can build a completely scientific idea of ​​a “normal” feeling of love, of a normal feeling of morality, etc. And once you have such an idea, you can determine in advance what exactly is considered by people gifted with a normal a sense of morality or love, moral, satisfying the feeling of love, and what is immoral, contrary to love. Thus, you get a completely accurate and completely objective criterion for evaluating phenomena related to the field of love and morality. Is it not possible, in exactly the same way, to construct a scientific conception of the normal aesthetic feeling and, on the basis of this conception, derive an objective criterion for evaluating works of art? Indeed, metaphysical aesthetics has tried many times to do this, but these attempts have led to absolutely nothing, or, better to say, have led to a purely negative result; they proved with their own eyes all the futility of the claims of metaphysical psychologists to bring under a certain, unchanging, constant norm the ever-changing, capricious aesthetic feeling of man, which is not amenable to any clear definitions. In vain did the aestheticians, with pedantic precision and casuistic thoroughness, calculate the necessary conditions that, according to their profound considerations, a work of art must necessarily satisfy in order for it to arouse in us a feeling of aesthetic pleasure; the reading public enjoyed, admired the story, the novel, or threw it under the table, not caring in the least whether it satisfies or does not satisfy the "necessary conditions" of Messrs. aestheticians. And quite often it happened precisely that works were thrown under the table that most satisfied the requirements of the aesthetic doctrine, while the public read out those works that least satisfied it. The theories of "truly beautiful", "truly artistic", which are usually distinguished by extreme variability, arbitrariness and often mutually contradictory, were taken as a guide in the evaluation of works of art by the authors of these theories themselves. For the majority of readers, however, they had decidedly no significance; most readers didn't even know they existed. Even those of these theories which were constructed in a purely inductive way (like Lessing's theory), on the basis of empirical observations of those aesthetic impressions which the literary works of authors with a more or less established reputation make on readers, even these theories do not can never give any general aesthetic criterion. In fact, after all, they are derived from observations of the aesthetic taste of not all, and not even the majority of readers, but only a small, extremely limited group of intelligent people who are at more or less the same level of mental and moral development, living in more or less the same environment, having more or less the same habits, needs and interests. I agree that the idea of ​​the truly beautiful and artistic, deduced by the aestheticist from such observations, serves as a fairly accurate objective criterion for evaluating works of art ... but only from the point of view of precisely these people, precisely this limited circle of readers; for other readers, it will not make any sense. Do we have any right to regard the aesthetic taste of a small part of the public as normal aesthetic taste and to subordinate the aesthetic taste of the entire reading public in general to its exclusive requirements? What grounds do we have for asserting that the aesthetic taste of a person who sees artistic charms in novels, well, at least Mr. Boborykin, or Vsevolod Krestovsky, or Mr. Leskov, is closer to normal aesthetic taste than the aesthetic taste of a person who sees artistic charms in "The Beautiful Mohammedan", in "Yeruslan Lazarevich", "Firebird", etc. 11? By virtue of what, not only scientific, but simply reasonable considerations, will we begin to give preference to the aesthetic taste of the reader, who experiences aesthetic pleasure when reading Anna Karenina or Turgenev's Novi, over the aesthetic taste of a person for whom neither Nov nor Karenina "do not make any aesthetic impression? And as long as exact science is not able to solve these questions, there is nothing to think about scientific aesthetics; until then, none of our theories of "truly beautiful" and "truly artistic", none of our attempts to define the normal requirements of normal aesthetic taste and derive, from these requirements, a general objective criterion for evaluating works of art, will have any real soil; all of them will bear the stamp of subjective arbitrariness and empiricism. However, it is highly doubtful that, under the present conditions of social life, science could give us any exact norms, any universally binding ideal of aesthetic taste. These norms and this ideal can only be worked out when all or the majority of people are at more or less the same level of mental and moral development, when they all lead a more or less the same way of life, have more or less the same interests, needs. and habits, will receive more or less the same education, etc., etc. Until then, each separate group of readers, even each individual reader, will be guided by his own criteria in evaluating works of art, and each of these criteria we must recognize exactly the same relative dignity. Which of them is higher, which is lower, which is better, which is worse - for the scientific solution of this issue, we do not have any positive, objective data; estheticians, it is true, are not embarrassed by this and still decide it, but all their decisions are exclusively based on their purely subjective feelings, on their personal taste, and therefore they cannot have any obligatory significance for anyone. This is nothing more than a personal, unsubstantiated opinion of one of the millions of readers, not based on any scientific data ... This reader imagines that his aesthetic taste can serve as an absolute measure for evaluating "truly beautiful", "truly artistic", and tries to assure other readers of this, and other readers usually take his word for it. But what would an esthetician say if someone thought of asking him: “And on what basis do you think, Mr. esthetician, that what makes a pleasant aesthetic impression on you and what you think as a result of this beautiful and artistic, should also be others to produce the same impression, that is, it should be beautiful and artistic not for you alone, but for all your readers in general? If you do not believe this, if you recognize the conventionality and relativity of your aesthetic taste, then why do you elevate even completely unconscious demands for yourself into some kind of absolute, universal criteria, into some kind of universally binding principles and build with the help of these criteria and principles, entire theories of "truly beautiful" and "truly artistic" an sich und für sich?" In all likelihood, the esthetician would not say anything, but would only shrug his shoulders contemptuously: not worth it!" Indeed, what can he answer? To answer the first question in a positive sense means to reveal oneself, especially one’s intellect, from an extremely unfavorable side; to answer it negatively means to sign a death sentence for everyone aesthetic theories means once and for all to refuse to establish any general criteria for evaluating works of art. And since, given the current state of the science "about the human soul", there can be no exact, objective and obligatory criteria for assessing the degree of artistry of a work of art, then, obviously, the question of its artistic truth can only be resolved on the basis of purely subjective impressions. , completely arbitrary, not allowing any objective verification of the personal considerations of the critic. The critic, having no real ground under his feet, plunges headlong into the boundless sea of ​​"subjectivism"; instead of real, objective facts, he now has to fiddle with elusive unconscious "inner feelings"; there can be no talk of any exact observations, logical conclusions and proofs here; they are replaced by unsubstantiated aphorisms, whose only ultima ratio 12 is the personal taste of the critic. Summarizing all that has been said, we come to the following conclusion: of the three questions that are subject to analysis of the criticism of literary creativity - the question of the vital truth of a given work, the question of its psychological truth and the question of its artistic truth - only the first question can be solved strictly scientifically. way with the help of an objective method of research; to the solution of the second question, the objective method of research is applied only in part, but in most cases it is resolved on the basis of a purely subjective method, and therefore its solution almost never has and cannot have a strictly scientific character; finally, the third question no longer admits any even approximate scientific solution; it is a matter of personal taste, and personal taste, as one clever Latin proverb says, is not disputed. ..at least smart people don't argue. Consequently, the criticism of literary creativity, if it wants to stand on strictly real ground, on the basis of objective observations and scientific conclusions, in other words, if it wants to be real and not metaphysical, objective-scientific, and not subjective-fantastic criticism, it must limit the scope of their analysis only with questions that currently allow a scientific, objective solution, namely: 1) the definition and explanation of the historical and social facts that determined and gave rise to a given work of art; 2) the definition and explanation of the historical and social factors that determined and gave rise to those phenomena that are reproduced in it; 3) the definition and clarification of their social significance and their vital truth. As for the question of the psychological truth of the characters derived in it, this question can only be subject to its analysis insofar as it admits an objective study and, if possible, a scientific solution. The question of the aesthetic merits and demerits of a work of art, in the absence of any scientific objective basis for its solution, must be completely excluded from the realm of real criticism. have not yet been developed by scientific psychology, and therefore to talk about them in literary criticism means, simply speaking, “to pour from empty to empty.” This is when scientific psychology will explain to us the essence of the creative process, when it will bring it under certain, precise, scientific laws , then another matter, then the critic will have at hand a completely scientific, immutable criterion for evaluating and analyzing the work of this or that author, and, consequently, engaging in this evaluation and this analysis, he will not leave the strictly scientific real ground. would he think at the present time, how Mr. B.D.P. advises him, to embark on research understanding the "psychic foundations" of writers' creativity, then, willy-nilly, he would have to confine himself to completely unsubstantiated, completely arbitrary assumptions and subjective considerations, decidedly of no interest to anyone. G. B. D. P., as an extremely ignorant person and who does not understand the eye in scientific psychology, identifies the tasks of the latter with the tasks of literary criticism. To solve psychological issues, especially such complex and intricate ones as, for example, , the question "about the foundations of the creative process", for this you need to be, first of all, a specialist physiologist. Of course, nothing prevents a literary critic from being a specialist physiologist, but, firstly, this is not necessary for him, and secondly, those methods and techniques by which only questions about the "foundations" can be scientifically resolved creative or any other mental process, are completely inapplicable and irrelevant in the field of questions of literary criticism. A critic can and should use the scientific conclusions of experimental psychology, but it is one thing to use the results of an already prepared analysis, and quite another to engage in this analysis yourself. Let yourself Messrs. scientific specialists are engaged in the "mental foundations of creativity", they have books in their hands, but Messrs. literary critics are completely incompetent for such pursuits. Don't you understand that, Mr. B.D.P.? Probably not, otherwise you would not dare to assert with such comical aplomb that until then the reviewers will indulge in purely subjective views and manifestations of taste, until they recognize the absolute need to deal with the psychic foundations, etc. You do not suspect that since . the reviewers will follow your advice, they will have no choice but to finally close themselves into the narrow sphere of "purely subjective sensations and manifestations of taste." Indeed, in the absence of any objective scientific criteria for determining the foundations of creativity, it is absolutely impossible to do without "subjective sensations and manifestations of taste." However, although the question of the aesthetic merits or demerits of a given literary work does not currently allow any exact scientific solution, and therefore it cannot be subject to a serious analysis of real criticism, nevertheless, it does not follow from this that the realist critic is obliged to remain silent before the reader. about the aesthetic impression that the work being analyzed made on him. On the contrary, such silence in many cases completely contradicts one of the most essential tasks of real criticism. This task is to contribute to the clarification of public consciousness in order to develop in readers a more or less sober, reasonable, critical attitude towards the phenomena of reality around them. To a large extent, real criticism accomplishes this task by analyzing the historical and social factors that gave rise to a given work of art, explaining the social significance and historical genesis of the phenomena reproduced in it, etc. n. However, this analysis and explanation alone does not yet exhaust its educational mission; it should also try, as far as possible, to promote the dissemination among readers of such works of art, which can favorably influence the expansion of their mental horizons, their moral and social development; it must counteract the dissemination of works that obscure public consciousness, demoralize the moral sense of the public, dull, pervert its common sense. Suppose, in part, it achieves this goal by subjecting to a thorough comprehensive analysis of the phenomena reproduced by the artist, the life-like veracity of his reproductions, his attitude towards them, etc., etc. But this alone is not enough. There is a considerable mass of readers who do not want to know anything about the tendencies of the artist, or about the degree of truthfulness of the phenomena reproduced by him; they demand nothing more from a work of art than artistry. Since they assume that it can give them some aesthetic pleasure, they greedily pounce on it, not caring in the least about its idea, nor about its direction, nor about the vital truth of the phenomena it reproduces. But the aesthetic effect aroused in us by this or that literary work depends to a large extent on the preconceived thought with which we begin to read it. If our ears were buzzed in advance about its amazing artistic beauties, we usually, quite unconsciously, force ourselves to find these beauties in it at all costs and, indeed, in the end we almost always find them. On the contrary, if we have a preconceived notion of its artistic inconsistency, then in most cases (I do not say always) it will either not make any aesthetic impression on us at all, or it will make an extremely weak, fleeting impression. Prejudice plays a very important and hitherto underestimated role in the formation of aesthetic effect - this is an undoubted fact, and real criticism cannot and should not ignore it. There are so many so-called classic literary works that we like (from an aesthetic point of view) only because we were taught from an early age to look at them as examples of artistic creativity. Had we looked at them with unprejudiced eyes, perhaps we would never have discovered in them those often completely fantastic, fictitious aesthetic beauties that we discover in them now. .. from someone else's voice. Reviews of criticism about the aesthetic merits and demerits of a given work of art, no matter how subjective, and therefore unsubstantiated and unsubstantiated, always have a very significant influence on the formation of an aesthetic prejudice to the detriment or benefit of this work. Why should real criticism voluntarily renounce this influence? Of course, it will not, like aesthetic-metaphysical criticism, look for some supposedly scientific grounds for its aesthetic opinions; them. Expressing its subjective views on the artistry of this or that literary work, which are not subject to any objective verification, it will thereby, to a certain extent, promote or oppose its dissemination among readers; it will contribute to its dissemination if it satisfies the requirements of the truth of life, if it can have a beneficial effect on the expansion of the intellectual horizons of readers, on their moral and social development; it will oppose its spread if it obscures the public consciousness of readers, dulls their moral sense and distorts reality. I know that gentlemen, gifted with the ingenuity of the BJP, will not fail to come into noble indignation at such an attitude of real criticism towards the aesthetic evaluation of a work of art. “How!,” they will exclaim, “you want real criticism, even in the aesthetic evaluation of a work of art, to be guided not by its real artistic merit, but by its vital truthfulness and the social significance of the phenomena reproduced in it, as well as the influence that it can have on the mental, moral and social development of your readers, etc., etc. But then you will probably elevate the most unsuitable work in an artistic sense to the pearl of an artistic creation only because the worldview of its author fits yours. worldview, and, conversely, a real artistic pearl is trampled into the mud simply because you don’t like the artist’s tendencies. ., who says of contemporary critics that "the more antipathetic the author's direction seems to them, the more they refer to his work. Quite often, they treat a gifted person as mediocrity, and vice versa, when a mediocre work serves their journalistic goals "(" Word ", No. 5. Thoughts on critical letters, creative, p. 68). And you have the courage to say that so it must be! What is it? Are you probably mocking us? Or do you just want to mystify your readers?" Oh not at all! calm down, gentlemen, gifted with ingenuity B.D.P.: I am not mystifying anyone and I am not mocking anyone. You yourself (yes, even you yourself) can easily be convinced of this, if you only give yourself the trouble to penetrate properly into the lamentations and sorrows of Mr. B.D.P. He is indignant and indignant at contemporary critics for the fact that in their judgments about the artistic merit of a work they are guided mainly by their antipathies or sympathies for the direction of the author. But think, how could it be otherwise? If the direction of the author, if the idea embodied in his work, if the images reproduced in it are antipathetic to you, then how can you experience any pleasure in reading or contemplating such a work? After all, it is a psychological impossibility. No matter how superficially our aesthetic feeling is investigated by psychology, in any case, not one of the knowledgeable psychologists at the present time will dare to deny that sympathy is one of its most essential elements. Only such a work of art excites in us a feeling of aesthetic pleasure, which in one way or another affects the feeling of sympathy in us. We must sympathize with the artistic image so that we can enjoy it aesthetically. What is surprising here that a realist critic, who pays exclusive attention to the truthfulness of life, to the social significance of a given literary work, in assessing its artistic beauties is mainly guided by this very truthfulness of life, this social significance of it, or, what is the same, - direction of the author in relation to the phenomena of reality reproduced by him? If these relations are sympathetic to criticism, then he will naturally experience an incomparably greater aesthetic pleasure when contemplating a work of art than when they are antipathetic to him. A critic, for example, of the "Russian Messenger" cannot sympathize with the trend, at least Reshetnikov or Pomyalovsky, and therefore it would be extremely strange if he experienced aesthetic pleasure while reading their works; just as it would be strange if a critic who sympathizes with the trend of these writers could experience aesthetic pleasure when reading the novels of Avseyonok, Markevich, Krestovsky (Vsevolodov). Indeed, we see that Moscow aesthetic critics deny, do not see and do not want to see any artistic merit in the works of Pomyalovsky and Reshetnikov; in turn, the Petersburg critics, with the same persistence and with the same decisiveness, deny the artistry in the works of Messrs. Markevich, Avseyonok and K 0 . Both are equally sincere, both are equally right... from the point of view, of course, of their subjective feelings. If such a critic were found in Kharkov, or in Kazan, or in Vyatka, who would equally sympathize with the direction of Pomyalovsky and Reshetnikov, and the direction of Avseenko and Markevich, then in all likelihood, in the works of all four authors, he would discover undoubted artistic beauties, and, of course, he would also be right, at least as right as his Moscow and St. Petersburg brethren are right. Since we have recognized (and who does not recognize this, except perhaps some inveterate metaphysician? (G. B. D. P., however, does not recognize. Apparently, it seems to him that there are, or at least can there are some "guidelines" by which it is possible to eliminate all [subjectivism] 13 and arbitrariness in evaluating the aesthetic merits and demerits of a work of art. Criticism, in his opinion, should, as soon as possible, assimilate these "guiding techniques" for itself, and for For this he recommends that she turn to "science and scientific thinking." Poor Mr. B.D.P.! why did he need to talk about science and scientific thinking? Now, if he advised criticism to turn to medieval, scholastic aesthetics - then another matter at least his advice would have at least some reasonable sense. Indeed, in the arsenals of scholastic aesthetics, criticism could find a considerable number of very precise and obligatory, therefore, excluding any personal arbitrariness and subjective zm criteria for evaluating "truly beautiful" and "truly artistic" ... But in science and in scientific thinking ... for mercy! - there are no such curiosities. On the contrary, the closer criticism approaches science, the more it becomes imbued with scientific thinking, the more and more obvious it will become for it that no such guiding methods, no such universally binding criteria exist and cannot exist.)),-- once we have recognized that no other criterion can be applied to the aesthetic evaluation of a work of art than the criterion of personal taste and subjective unconscious sensations of critics, we no longer have the right to reproach the latter for the arbitrariness and inconsistency of their aesthetic judgments. "Beauty is in the gaze of the beholder" - if this proverb is not fully applicable to the beauty of phenomena that act exclusively on our visual organs, then it is fully and unconditionally applicable to the beauty of works of art. Their beauty really exclusively depends on the eye contemplating them. After that, how do you want, Mr. B.D.P., that the judgments of critics about this beauty - critics not only of different convictions, but even of the same camp - do not differ in subjectivism, arbitrariness, unsubstantiated and contradictory? How do you want these judgments of theirs not to be influenced by their likes and dislikes, their prejudice, their, as you say, "preconceived ideas"? Why, you want the impossible. After all that has been said here, I believe that even Mr. B.D.P. it will not be difficult to understand how reasonable and thorough the opinions he "overheard" about the inconsistency, unscrupulousness and unscientific nature of our real criticism. It is reproached with subjectivism, and yet it turns out that it almost never leaves strictly objective ground, and that this is precisely its main difference from aesthetic-metaphysical criticism. She is reproached for being unsystematic, lacking scientific methods and principles, and yet it was precisely with systematic accuracy that she classified and distributed the facts to be analyzed according to the degree of their social importance, their objectivity and their accessibility to accurate scientific research. By concentrating all her attention on phenomena and questions accessible to scientific solution, she eliminated from the sphere of her analysis everything that at the present time, with the current development of our social life, with the current level of our knowledge, does not allow for either a scientific solution or an objective method of research. She is further reproached for sacrificing the interests of criticism, in the strict sense of the word, the interests of journalism, and meanwhile, not only does she not sacrifice some interests to others, but, on the contrary, she tries to merge them into one inseparable whole. Having put forward the basic position that criticism can only hold on to real scientific ground when it turns from the phenomena of the subjective world not explained by science to the study of the phenomena of the objective world, it, so to speak, shifted the center of gravity of its research from internal, mental factors - artistic creativity - on external factors, historical and social. Consequently, the so-called journalistic element (Although, adapting to the generally accepted terminology, I retain the name journalistic, but in essence this epithet can hardly be considered particularly successful. The fact is that the critic, analyzing the historical and social factors that explain and determine the truthfulness and social significance of a given work of art, has in mind to comprehend the views of readers on the phenomena around them, to develop in them a critical attitude to practical reality, to broaden their horizons. social outlook, to show them the close relationship that exists between various social factors, and the influence they exert on the development of human characters, etc. Such goals can hardly be equated with those goals that are usually pursued by a publicist. Because what is now customary to call the journalistic direction of real criticism, it would be much more correct to call it the "social scientific" direction.), introduced into it by its founders, is not at all something accidental, temporary, transient, which once had, and now as if it had completely lost its raison d "être, as smart people think, like Mr. B.D.P. On the contrary, it constitutes its most essential and integral part. Without it, it is unthinkable. But they say that in recent times our real criticism begins to leave that objectively real, scientific, historical and social (or, as they say, journalistic) ground on which it stood several years ago and from which it cannot leave without renouncing its principles and tasks, its It is said that some kind of reaction is now taking place in her "in the name of the independence of art", in other words, as if she felt the need from the world of real facts to deepen again into the shady pool of subjective psychology and metaphysical aesthetics. Some, of course, scold her for it, while others, like Mr. BDP, for example, encourage and praise her. But, of course, praise and encouragement coming from such quick-witted people like Mr. BDP is worse than any abuse. There is no doubt that if symptoms of a "reaction in the name of the independence of art" are indeed found in modern criticism, then these symptoms must serve as an obvious sign of its decline and decay. But just what exactly do they manifest themselves in? And that, we are told, is that in recent times, in critical articles, the analysis of historical and social factors is increasingly beginning to be relegated to the background. Instead of engaging in social analysis, critics prefer to engage in purely psychological analysis, or they indulge in the exposition of their subjective, arbitrary, unfounded views about the aesthetic merits or demerits of the work being analyzed. I am ready to admit that there is some truth in this, and, if you like, a very significant share. But, firstly, psychological analysis, i.e., the study of the question of the psychological truth of a given work of art, cannot be completely excluded, as we have shown above, from the realm of questions to be resolved by real criticism. In the same way, the tasks of real criticism are in no way harmed by a certain expansiveness of the critic in terms of his subjective views on the aesthetic merits and demerits of this or that work of art. Secondly, are there any other circumstances at hand that can explain to us, even without the help of the hypothesis of the decline of criticism, the fact that in recent times the analysis of historical social phenomena, i.e., the so-called journalistic element of criticism, has become less and less to attract the favorable attention of Messrs. critics? Well, tell me, in fact, why is criticism to blame, if lately fiction works that directly or indirectly affect one or another social issue, one or another interest have begun to appear less and less; if a purely psychological element again plays a predominant role in them, while the social element is either relegated to the background, or even completely absent? After all, the critic cannot put into the work being analyzed something of which there are no traces in it; he takes only what is; and if there is only one psychology in him, then he willy-nilly have to talk about only one psychology. No one will deny the fact that in the "great epoch of uplifting of the national spirit" we are now living through, most of everything that is written and read is written and read solely for the "killing of time." I do not blame the writers: they must, under the threat of starvation, supply the book market with such a product for which there is the greatest demand. I don't blame the readers either... really, they need to kill time somehow; it drags on so terribly slowly, so unbearably boring, so painfully monotonous!.. But don't blame the critics either. What can they say about works that pursue only one, however, very innocent and even laudable goal - to lead the reader into a state of pleasant self-forgetfulness and carefree quietism? It is clear that such works, except for some obscure, unconscious, almost elusive, subjective sensations, will not and cannot excite anything; therefore, if you want to talk about them, you will necessarily have to confine yourself to these unconscious subjective sensations alone. .. You may say that in this case it is better not to say anything at all. Quite rightly: however, on the one hand only, and on the other, you must agree, after all, you need to knead your tongue from time to time! And what’s good, he can completely atrophy with us ...

We have established that the play is the basis of the future performance and that without the enthusiasm of the director and the entire team for the ideological and artistic merits of the play, there can be no success in working on its stage incarnation. The unique form of the performance must be organically connected with all the features of the play, flow from these features.

Very responsible in this regard is the moment of the director's initial acquaintance with the play. The question here is whether a creative impulse arises for further work on the play or does not arise. It will be very annoying if you later have to regret it: a creative union could have taken place, but did not take place as a result of an underestimation of the conditions that are designed to promote this. That is why you need to learn how to create these conditions for yourself and remove the obstacles that prevent creative passion. If the hobby still does not happen, then we will have the opportunity to say: we did everything we could. However, what are the conditions? And what mistakes should be avoided?

First of all, during the initial acquaintance with the play, it is important to approach its perception with maximum immediacy. To do this, the very process of the first reading of the play must be arranged in such a way that nothing interferes with this immediacy of impressions.

First impression

One should not start reading a play in a state of mental or physical fatigue, nervous irritation, or, conversely, excessive elation. To read the play, we leave enough time to read the entire play at one time from beginning to end, with only breaks for rest in the amount of, for example, ordinary theatrical intermissions. There is nothing more harmful than reading a play piece by piece with long breaks, or even more so in snatches, somewhere on a bus or in a subway car.

It is necessary to provide yourself with a calm environment for the entire time of reading, so that no one is distracted and nothing extraneous interferes. Sit comfortably at a table or sofa and start reading slowly.

When reading a play for the first time, forget that you are the director, and try to be naive, childishly trusting, and completely surrender to first impressions. At the same time, there is no need to show any special conscientiousness, strain your attention, force yourself to read or think about it. You just need to be ready to be carried away, if there are grounds for this, to be ready to put yourself at the disposal of those thoughts and feelings that will come by themselves. No effort, no "work". Get bored if it's boring, think of something else if the play can't grab your attention. If she has the ability to interest and excite, she will interest and excite you, and if she does not have this ability, it is not your fault.

Why do we need this first, immediate, general impression of the play? In order to determine the properties that are organically inherent in this play. For the first general impression is nothing but the result of the action of precisely these properties.

Reasoning and analyzing, weighing and determining - for all this there will be enough time ahead. If you immediately miss the opportunity to get a live, direct impression, you will lose this opportunity forever: when you start reading the play again the next day, your perception will already be complicated by elements of analysis, it will not be pure and direct.

We have not yet managed to bring anything from ourselves into the play, we have not yet interpreted it in any way. Let us hasten to record the impact that the play itself had on us. Then we will no longer be able to separate what belongs to the play from what we ourselves, by our analysis and our imagination, have brought into it, we will no longer know where the playwright's creativity ends and our own creativity begins. If we do not immediately determine and fix our first impression, in the middle of work it will be impossible even to restore it in our memory. By that time we will dive into the details, in particular, we will not see the forest for the trees. When the day of the performance comes and the audience comes, we run the risk of meeting a reaction from the audience that we did not expect at all. For the organic properties of the play, the feeling of which we have lost, suddenly, in the face of a direct viewer, will loudly declare themselves. This may turn out to be both a pleasant and an unpleasant surprise, for the organic properties of a piece can be both positive and negative. And it may be even worse: having lost the sense of the organic properties of the play, we can inadvertently strangle, trample on a whole range of its positive properties in our work.

K.S.Stanislavsky was the first to say so definitely about the significance of the first, direct impression of the play. Following his instructions, we consider it necessary to realize and fix our first impression. The goal that we are pursuing in this case is not to be blindly guided by this impression in our further work, but to take it into account in one way or another, to take it into account in one way or another - to take into account the ability objectively inherent in this play to produce what not a different impression. In further work on the play, we will strive to reveal, using stage means, the positive properties of the play and to overcome, extinguish those of its properties that we for some reason recognize as negative.

For example, at the initial acquaintance, the play seemed boring to us - such is our immediate impression. Does this mean that the play should be abandoned? Not always. It often happens that a play that is boring to read turns out to be extremely interesting on the stage - with the right stage decision.

Further careful analysis of the play may reveal the deepest potential stage possibilities inherent in it. The fact that it is boring in reading only shows that this play does not have the ability to captivate attention with verbal material alone. This property of the play must be taken into account: it indicates that when staging a play, one should not take the text as the main support for oneself. It is necessary to put all the energy into revealing the content that is hidden behind the text, that is, the inner action of the play.

If the analysis shows that there is nothing behind the text, the play can be thrown into the trash. But in order to make such a verdict, it is necessary to make a conscientious comprehensive analysis of the play.

A director would make a big mistake, for example, if he refused to stage a comedy by Shakespeare on the sole ground that it did not make him laugh when he read it. Shakespeare's comedies really rarely cause laughter when read. But, being staged, they now and then cause outbursts of unanimous laughter in the auditorium. Here, humor is rooted not so much in the words of the characters, but in the actions, deeds, stage positions. Therefore, in order to feel the humor of Shakespeare's comedies, you need to mobilize your imagination and imagine the characters not only speaking, but also acting, that is, playing the play on the screen of your own imagination.

Testifying to Stanislavsky's first impression of Chekhov's "The Seagull", Nemirovich-Danchenko wrote that this brilliant director, who had an exceptional artistic flair, "having read The Seagull ... did not understand at all what one could get carried away with: people seemed to him somehow half-hearted , passions - ineffective, words - maybe too simple, images - not giving the actors good material ... And there was a task: to arouse his interest precisely in the depths and lyrics of everyday life. It was necessary to divert his fantasy from fantasy or history, from where characteristic plots, and immerse in the most ordinary everyday life around us, filled with our most ordinary everyday feelings.

Quite often a play, the dramatic form of which bears the imprint of the author's innovation and is characterized by features that are unusual for perception, initially evokes a negative attitude towards itself. This happened, for example, with M. Gorky's play "Egor Bulychov and Others". After the first reading, the staff of the Theater named after Evg. Vakhtangov was completely at a loss: almost no one liked the play. It was said that it was "conversational", that there was no regularly developing plot in it, no intrigue, no plot, no action.

The essence of the matter was that in this play Gorky boldly violated the traditional canons of dramatic art. This made it difficult for the initial perception of its exceptional merits, which required new ways of expression in order to be revealed. The inertia of human consciousness in such cases is the reason for the resistance to everything that does not correspond to the usual ideas, views and tastes.

It was decided to entrust the staging of Gorky's play to the author of these lines. But only after a long, very active resistance, the theater management managed to persuade me to study it in detail. And only as a result of such a study did my attitude towards the play radically change - I not only stopped resisting, but would even be in despair if the theater management changed its mind and took the play away from me.

As you can see, it is impossible to rely completely on the first, direct impression. Love does not always arise, as with Romeo and Juliet - at first sight, a certain period is often required for a gradual rapprochement. The same is true of the process by which the director falls in love with the play. The moment of creative passion in these cases is postponed for some time. But after all, it may not take place at all as a result of a hasty negative decision. Therefore, one should never rush to pass a "guilty verdict". First, through analysis, we will find out the reasons for the negative impression that arose during the first reading of the play.

There are also cases of an inverse relationship between the true quality of the play and the first impression of it - when the play causes delight at the initial acquaintance with it, and then, in the process of work, its ideological and artistic failure is revealed. What could be the reasons for this?

It happens, for example, that a play has bright literary merits: its language is characterized by figurativeness, aphorism, wit, etc. But the characters of the characters are indefinite, the action is sluggish, the ideological content is vague ... At the first reading of the play, its literary merits can temporarily overshadow stage imperfections. However, the moment of disappointment will come sooner or later, and then it will be necessary to stop the work, on which a considerable amount of time and energy of the team has already been spent.

So, it is impossible to be blindly guided by the first impression, but it is absolutely necessary to take it into account, because it reveals the organic properties of the play, some of which require direct stage exposure, others - stage opening, and still others - stage overcoming.

How to capture the first, immediate impression?

Try, after reading or listening to the play, immediately, without analyzing, without thinking, without criticizing, to put into words the trace that it left in your mind. Try, with the help of short, concise definitions, on the fly to grab an impression that is ready to slip away. Use these definitions to take a snapshot of the state that the play has evoked in you. Without wasting time for a long reflection, start writing down in a column those definitions that come to your mind. For example:

If we compare these two series of definitions, we will see that they refer to two images that are opposite in character.

Each row gives a holistic view of the impression we received. There is no talk here about the ideological content of the play, about its theme and plot, - we are talking only about the general impression, which is predominantly emotional in nature.

However, as soon as you compare the general idea of ​​a given play called for by these definitions with a specific object of the image, bring this idea into combination with a particular theme, you will immediately be able to give an ideological assessment of this play.

Thus, we see what an essential role the fixed first impression plays in the subsequent analysis of the play. But more on that later. So far, our task is to characterize the ways of fixing the first impression.

Working with students on the staging of Chekhov's story "The Good End", E. B. Vakhtangov defined the general impression of this story as follows: "Deal, stupidity, seriousness, positivity, boldness, cumbersomeness." “Cumbersomeness,” Vakhtangov said, “should be revealed in forms, dullness and fatness - in colors, a deal - in action.” We see how, proceeding from the general impression, Vakhtangov also gropes for the nature of those stage means that should realize the organic properties of Chekhov's story, reflected in the first impression.

“Whatever thing you work on,” Vakhtangov said, “the starting point of work will always be your first impression.”

However, can we be sure that our first impression really reflects the properties and features that are objectively inherent in the play? After all, it can turn out to be very subjective and not coincide with the first impression of other people. The first impression depends not only on the properties and characteristics of the play, but also on the director himself, in particular, even on the state in which the director was reading the play. It is quite possible that if he had read not today, but yesterday, his impression would have been different.

In order to insure yourself against errors due to accidents of subjective perception, you should check your first impression in collective readings and interviews. This is also necessary because the director, as we know, must be the spokesman and organizer of the creative will of the collective. Therefore, he should not consider his personal first impression final and unconditional. His personal impression must be digested in the "common pot" of collective perception.

The more collective readings and discussions of the play that take place before work begins, the better. In each theater, the play is usually read to the artistic council of the theater, the troupe and the whole team at production meetings, and, finally, to the actors who will be involved in this play.

All this is extremely useful. It is the director's job to direct the discussion of the play read in each individual case in such a way that even before any analysis, the general immediate impression of the audience is revealed. Comparing his own first impression with a series of the most frequently repeated definitions, the director can always finally draw up a series from which the accidents of too subjective perceptions fall out and which will most accurately reflect the organic properties of the play that are objectively inherent in it.

Having checked, corrected and thus supplemented his direct impression of the play, the director finally establishes and writes down a number of definitions that give a general, integral idea of ​​it.

The more often in the future the director will refer to this record, the fewer mistakes he will make. Having such a record, he will always be able to establish whether in his work he follows his intention to reveal some properties of the play and overcome others, that is, he will be able to constantly control himself. And this is absolutely necessary, because in such a complex art as the art of the director, it is extremely easy to stray from the intended path. How often does it happen that the director, seeing the finished result of his work at the dress rehearsal, asks himself in horror: did I want this? Where are the properties of the play that fascinated me when I first met her? How did it happen that I imperceptibly turned off somewhere to the side? Why did this happen?

It is not difficult to answer the last question. This happened because the director had lost the feeling for the play, the feeling that most fully seizes him when he first meets the play. That is why it is so important to determine, fix on paper and often remember your first, direct impression.

Let me give you an example from my directing practice. Once I happened to stage a play by a Soviet author, in which the action took place in one of the collective farms in the fisheries of the Azov coast. After reading the play, I recorded my first impression in the following definitions:

severity

Poverty

Courage

danger

fresh salty air

grey sky

gray sea

hard labour

the proximity of death.

All these definitions revealed, as it seemed to me, the objective qualities of the play, and I dreamed of realizing them in my production. But while working on the layout, I, together with the artist, got carried away with the formal technical task of the illusory image of the sea. We wanted to depict him without fail in motion. In the end, to a certain extent, this was achieved. Black velvet was hung on the back, tulle in front of it. Between velvet and tulle we placed a structure consisting of a series of parallel spirals made from pieces of shiny tin. These spirals were set in motion by a special mechanism and, being illuminated by the beams of searchlights, by their rotation created the illusion of water sparkling in the sun and moving in waves. The effect was especially striking in moonlight. It turned out a magical picture of the night sea. Moonlight reflected in the water in the form of iridescent highlights. The noise of the waves, carried out with the help of a noise machine, completed the picture. We were extremely satisfied with the result of our efforts.

And what? Our decorative luck was the cause of the utter failure of the performance. The best properties of the play were killed, strangled by the brilliant scenery. Instead of harshness, sugaryness turned out, instead of hard and dangerous work - sports entertainment, instead of a gray sky and a gray sea with low boring sandy shores - blinding, sparkling waters in the bright rays of the sun and the poetic tenderness of the Crimean night. Under the conditions of this external design, all my efforts to realize the properties of the play through acting failed. The actors were unable to "replay" the scenery. Our tin sea turned out to be stronger than the actors.

What is the essence of my mistake?

I did not forget at the time to determine and fix my first general impression of the play, but I forgot to check this impression in the process of further work. I approached the matter formally, "bureaucratically": I defined it, wrote it down, filed it to the case and ... forgot. As a result, despite a number of acting successes, the result was a formally aesthetic performance, devoid of internal unity.

Everything that has been said about the first impression is not difficult to apply in practice, if we are talking about staging a contemporary play. The situation is incomparably more complicated when staging a classical work. In this case, the director is deprived of the opportunity to get the first, direct impression. He is well aware not only of the play itself, but also of a number of its interpretations, many of which, having become traditional, have taken hold of the minds so firmly that it is extremely difficult to make a breach in the generally accepted opinion. And yet the director must, by making a special creative effort, try to perceive the well-known play anew. It's not easy, but it's possible. To do this, you need to distract yourself from all existing opinions, judgments, assessments, prejudices, clichés and try, when reading a play, to perceive only its text.

In this case, the so-called "paradoxical approach" recommended by VE Meyerhold can be useful, but on condition that it is used skillfully and carefully. It consists in the fact that you are trying to perceive this work in the light of definitions that are diametrically opposed to the generally accepted ones. So, if the opinion is established regarding this play that it is a gloomy work, try to read it as cheerful; if it is perceived by everyone as a frivolous joke, look for philosophical depth in it; if it is used to be regarded as a heavy drama, try to find in it a reason to laugh. You will see that at least once out of ten you will be able to do this without much effort.

Of course, it is absurd to elevate the "paradoxical approach" to a guiding principle. It is impossible, mechanically turning inside out the traditional views obtained in this way of definition, to be considered in advance the truth. Each paradoxical assumption must be carefully checked. If you feel that, in light of the paradoxical definition, you are more comfortable with the play, that there is no conflict within you between the paradoxical assumption and the impression you get from the play, you can assume that your assumption is not without a right to exist.

But still, you will make a final decision only after analyzing both the play itself and those interpretations that you want to reject. In the process of analysis, you will answer yourself the following questions: why was the play previously interpreted in this way and not otherwise, and why can it be given a different, radically different interpretation from the previous ones? Only by answering these questions, you have the right to finally establish yourself in your paradoxical definitions and consider that they reflect the organic properties that are objectively inherent in the play.

I already wrote that Gorky's amazing play "Yegor Bulychov and Others" met with a negative attitude at the first reading at the Vakhtangov Theatre. The future director of the play, the author of these lines, fully agreed with the theater staff in this assessment. However, after that I staged the play five times in various theaters, and at the same time, each time I tried to approach my director's task from the positions dictated by the social situation of this period. However, the word "tried" is not entirely appropriate here: it turned out by itself. And the beginning of this new approach each time was rooted in the initial moment of the work, that is, in the new impression from the first reading of the play after a long break. In other words, each time the case began with a new "first impression". And each time I was surprised, discovering properties and features that I had not previously noticed in the play.

Fifteen years have passed between the fourth and fifth productions of the named play. Much has changed in our country and throughout the world during this time, and when I re-read the play for the first time after the break, it seemed to me even more relevant, even more modern. Accordingly, the characterization of the first immediate impression was enriched with a number of new definitions. The column of these definitions increased, which subsequently gave rise to a number of new stage colors in the director's interpretation of the play, in its staging. Here is that definition column:

extraordinary relevance

second youth of the play

freshness brightness

courage and determination

sarcasm and anger

ruthlessness

cruelty

severity

conciseness

truthfulness

humor and tragedy

vitality and versatility

simplicity and grotesque

breadth and symbolism

confidence and optimism

aspiration for the future

From these definitions grew the play I staged in Sofia at the end of 1967, starring the outstanding Bulgarian actor Stefan Getsov.

Three times I staged one of Chekhov's best works - his famous The Seagull. It seems to me that the last production is much fuller and more accurate than the previous two, revealing the beauty and depth of the play. And again, just as with multiple productions of "Egor Bulychov", the "first impression" of the play was enriched with new discoveries with each subsequent production. Before starting work on the third option, this list looked like this:

modern and relevant

poetic

soft and firm

thin and strong

gracefully and strictly

fearless and fair

pain of heart and courage of thought

wise calm

grief and anxiety

kindly and harshly

funny and sad

with faith and hope

Shakespearean passions

Chekhov's restraint

struggle, desire, dream

overcoming

Even from this list it is clear how complex, multifaceted and contradictory, and therefore very difficult to stage, this masterpiece of dramatic literature is.

However, the work of the director on the most difficult play is greatly facilitated if he has such a list in his hands. Thinking over his idea, mobilizing fantasy and imagination for this, the director has the opportunity to constantly cope with such a "cheat sheet" so as not to go astray in search of a director's solution for a performance in which all these properties and features should find their stage embodiment.

So, we have established that the starting point of the director's creative work is to determine the first general impression of the play. The first impression is a manifestation of the properties that are organically inherent in this play; These properties can be positive and can be negative. Some properties of a play make themselves known during the initial acquaintance with the play and are thus realized in the first impression, while others reveal themselves as a result of analysis or even only during the stage implementation of the play. Some properties, therefore, exist explicitly, others - in a hidden form. Explicit positive properties are subject to stage embodiment, hidden ones - to stage disclosure. Negative properties (both explicit and hidden) are subject to creative overcoming.

Definition of the themes of the play, its ideas and super-tasks

It seems to us most expedient to begin the preliminary director's analysis of the play with the definition of its theme. Then the disclosure of its leading, main idea and super-task will follow. On this, the initial acquaintance with the play can be considered basically finished.

Let us, however, agree on terminology.

We will call the theme the answer to the question: what is this play about? In other words: to define a theme means to define the object of the image, that range of phenomena of reality that has found its artistic reproduction in a given play.

We will call the main, or leading, idea of ​​the play the answer to the question: what does the author say about this object? In the idea of ​​the play, the thoughts and feelings of the author in relation to the depicted reality find their expression.

The topic is always specific. She is a piece of living reality. The idea, on the other hand, is abstract. It is a conclusion and a generalization.

Theme is the objective side of the work. The idea is subjective. It represents the author's reflections on the depicted reality.

Any work of art as a whole, as well as each individual image of this work, is the unity of theme and idea, i.e., the concrete and the abstract, the particular and the general, the objective and the subjective, the unity of the subject and what the author says about this subject.

As you know, in art life is not reflected in a mirror, in the form in which it is directly perceived by our senses. Having passed through the consciousness of the artist, it is given to us in a cognized and transformed form, together with the thoughts and feelings of the artist, which were caused by the phenomena of life. Artistic reproduction absorbs, absorbs the thoughts and feelings of the artist, expressing his attitude to the depicted object, and this attitude transforms the object, turning it from a phenomenon of life into a phenomenon of art - into an artistic image.

The value of works of art lies in the fact that every phenomenon depicted in them not only strikes us with an amazing resemblance to the original, but it appears to us illuminated by the light of the artist’s mind, warmed by the flame of his heart, revealed in its deep inner essence.

Every artist should remember the words spoken by Leo Tolstoy: “There is no more comical reasoning, if only to think about its meaning, such as the very common, and among artists, reasoning that an artist can depict life without understanding its meaning, not loving the good and not hating the evil in her..."

Truthfully show each phenomenon of life in its essence, reveal the truth important for people's lives and infect them with their attitude to the depicted, their feelings - this is the task of the artist. If this is not the case, if the subjective principle (i.e., the artist’s thoughts about the subject of the image) is absent and, thus, all the merits of the work are limited to elementary external likelihood, then the value of the work turns out to be negligible.

But the opposite also happens. It happens that in the work there is no objective beginning. The subject of the image (part of the objective world) dissolves in the subjective consciousness of the artist and disappears. If we can, perceiving such a work, learn something about the artist himself, then it cannot say anything significant about the reality surrounding him and us. The cognitive value of such non-objective, subjectivist art, to which modern Western modernism gravitates so much, is also completely insignificant.

The art of the theater has the ability to bring out the positive qualities of the play on the stage and can destroy them. Therefore, it is very important that the director, having received a play for staging, in which the theme and idea are in unity and harmony, does not turn it on the stage into a naked abstraction, devoid of real life support. And this can easily happen if the ideological content of the play is torn off from a specific topic, from those living conditions, facts and circumstances that underlie the generalizations made by the author. In order for these generalizations to sound convincing, it is necessary that the theme be realized in all its vital concreteness.

Therefore, it is so important at the very beginning of the work to accurately name the theme of the play, while avoiding any kind of abstract definitions, such as: love, death, kindness, jealousy, honor, friendship, duty, humanity, justice, etc. Starting work with abstraction, we risk depriving the future performance of concrete-life content and ideological persuasiveness. The sequence should be as follows: first - the real subject of the objective world (the theme of the play), then - the author's judgment about this subject (the idea of ​​the play and the most important task), and only then - the director's judgment about it (the idea of ​​the performance).

But we will talk about the idea of ​​the performance a little later, for now we are only interested in what is given directly in the play itself. Before moving on to the examples, one more preliminary remark.

One should not think that those definitions of the theme, idea and super-task that the director gives at the very beginning of the work are something immovable, once and for all established. In the future, these formulations can be refined, developed and even changed in their content. They should be considered as initial assumptions, working hypotheses, rather than dogmas.

However, it does not at all follow from this that the definition of a topic, idea, and super-task at the very beginning of work can be abandoned under the pretext that everything will change later anyway. And it would be wrong if the director does this work somehow, hastily. In order to carry it out conscientiously, you need to read the play more than once. And each time to read slowly, thoughtfully, with a pencil in hand, lingering where something seems unclear, noting those remarks that seem especially important for understanding the meaning of the play. And only after the director has read the play in this way several times, he will have the right to ask himself questions that need to be answered in order to determine the theme of the play, its leading idea and the most important task.

Since we decided to name a certain segment of the life recreated in it as the theme of the play, every theme is an object localized in time and space. This gives us reason to begin the definition of the topic with determining the time and place of the action, that is, with answers to the questions: "when?" and where?"

"When?" means: in what century, in what era, in what period, and sometimes even in what year. "Where?" means: in what country, in what society, in what environment, and sometimes even in what particular geographical point.

Let's use examples. However, with two important warnings.

First, the author of this book is very far from claiming to regard his interpretations of the plays chosen as examples as indisputable truth. He willingly admits that more precise formulations of the themes can be found and a deeper disclosure of the ideological meaning of these plays can be given.

Secondly, in defining the idea of ​​each play, we will not pretend to an exhaustive analysis of its ideological content, but will try in the most concise terms to give the quintessence of this content, to make an "extract" from it, and in this way to reveal what seems to us the most significant in the given play. play. Perhaps this will result in some simplification. Well, we will have to come to terms with this, since we have no other opportunity to acquaint the reader with a few examples of the method of the director's analysis of the play, which has proven its effectiveness in practice.

Let's start with "Egor Bulychov" by M. Gorky.

When does the play take place? In the winter of 1916-1917, that is, during the First World War, on the eve of the February Revolution. Where? In one of the provincial cities of Russia. Striving for the utmost concretization, the director, after consulting with the author, established a more precise location: this work is the result of observations made by Gorky in Kostroma.

So: the winter of 1916-1917 in Kostroma.

But even this is not enough. It is necessary to establish among what people, in what social environment, the action is unfolding. It is not difficult to answer: in the family of a wealthy merchant, among representatives of the middle Russian bourgeoisie.

What interested Gorky in the merchant family during this period of Russian history?

From the first lines of the play, the reader is convinced that the members of the Bulychov family live in an atmosphere of enmity, hatred, and constant bickering. It is immediately clear that this family is shown by Gorky in the process of its disintegration, decomposition. Obviously, it was this process that was the subject of observation and special interest on the part of the author.

Conclusion: the process of decomposition of a merchant family (that is, a small group of representatives of the middle Russian bourgeoisie), who lived in a provincial town (more precisely, in Kostroma) in the winter of 1916-1917, is the subject of the image, the theme of M. Gorky's play "Egor Bulychov and Others ".

As you can see, everything is concrete here. So far - no generalizations and conclusions.

And we think that the director will make a big mistake if, in his production, he gives, for example, as a scene of action a rich mansion in general, and not one that could be inherited by a wealthy merchant's wife, Yegor Bulychov's wife, in the late 19th and early 20th centuries in Volga city. He will make no less mistake if he shows the Russian provincial merchants in those traditional forms to which we have become accustomed since the time of A. N. Ostrovsky (undercoat, blouse, boots with bottles), and not in the form that it looked like in 1916-1917 years. The same applies to the behavior of the characters - to their way of life, manners, habits. Everything that concerns everyday life must be historically precise and concrete. This, of course, does not mean that it is necessary to overload the performance with unnecessary trifles and everyday details - let only what is necessary be given. But if something is given, let it not contradict historical truth.

Proceeding from the principle of the vital concreteness of the theme, the direction of "Egor Bulychov" required the performers of some roles to master the Kostroma folk dialect in "o", and B.V. Shchukin spent the summer months on the Volga, thus gaining the opportunity to constantly hear around themselves the folk speech of the Volzhans and achieve perfection in mastering its characteristic.

Such concretization of time and place of action, situation and everyday life not only did not prevent the theater from revealing the full depth and breadth of Gorky's generalizations, but, on the contrary, helped to make the author's idea as intelligible and convincing as possible.

What is this idea? What exactly did Gorky tell us about the life of a merchant family on the eve of the February Revolution of 1917?

Carefully reading the play, you begin to understand that the picture of the decomposition of the Bulychov family shown by Gorky is important not in itself, but insofar as it is a reflection of social processes of a huge scale. These processes took place far beyond the boundaries of Bulychov's house, and not only in Kostroma, but everywhere, throughout the vast territory of the tsarist empire, shaken in its foundations and ready to collapse. Despite the absolute concreteness, realistic vitality - or, rather, precisely because of concreteness and vitality - this picture is involuntarily perceived as unusually typical for that time and for this environment.

In the center of the play, Gorky placed the most intelligent and most talented representative of this environment - Yegor Bulychov, endowing him with the features of deep skepticism, contempt, sarcastic mockery and anger towards what until recently seemed to him holy and unshakable. Capitalist society is thus subjected to crushing criticism not from without, but from within, which makes this criticism all the more convincing and irresistible. The inexorably approaching death of Bulychov is involuntarily perceived by us as evidence of his social death, as a symbol of the inevitable death of his class.

So through the particular, Gorky reveals the general, through the individual - the typical. By showing the historical pattern of social processes that were reflected in the life of one merchant family, Gorky awakens in our minds a firm belief in the inevitable death of capitalism.

So we come to the main idea of ​​Gorky's play: death to capitalism! All his life Gorky dreamed of the liberation of the human person from all types of oppression, from all forms of physical and spiritual slavery. All his life he dreamed of liberation in a person of all his abilities, talents, opportunities. All his life he dreamed of the time when the word "Man" would really sound proud. This dream was, it seems to us, the most important task that inspired Gorky when he created his Bulychov.

Consider in the same way the play by A.P. Chekhov "The Seagull". The time of action is the 90s of the last century. The scene is a landowner's estate in central Russia. Wednesday - Russian intellectuals of various origins (from small landed nobles, burghers and other raznochintsy) with a predominance of artistic professions (two writers and two actresses).

It is easy to establish that almost all the characters in this play are mostly unhappy people, deeply dissatisfied with life, their work and creativity. Almost all of them suffer from loneliness, from the vulgarity of the life around them, or from unrequited love. Almost all of them passionately dream of great love or the joy of creativity. Almost all of them strive for happiness. Almost all of them want to escape from the captivity of a meaningless life, to get off the ground. But they don't succeed. Having mastered an insignificant grain of happiness, they tremble over it (like, say, Arkadina), afraid to miss it, desperately fight for this grain and immediately lose it. Only Nina Zarechnaya, at the cost of inhuman suffering, manages to experience the happiness of a creative flight and, believing in her calling, find the meaning of her existence on earth.

The theme of the play is the struggle for personal happiness and for success in art among the Russian intelligentsia of the 90s of the 19th century.

What does Chekhov say about this struggle? What is the ideological meaning of the play?

To answer this question, let's try to understand the main thing: what makes these people unhappy, what do they lack in order to overcome suffering and feel the joy of life? Why did one Nina Zarechnaya succeed?

If you carefully read the play, the answer will come very accurate and exhaustive. It sounds in the general structure of the play, in opposition to the fates of various characters, is read in individual replicas of the characters, is guessed in the subtext of their dialogues, and, finally, is directly expressed through the lips of the wisest character in the play - through the lips of Dr. Dorn.

Here is the answer: the characters in "The Seagull" are so unhappy because they do not have a big and all-consuming goal in life. They do not know what they live for and what they create in art for.

Hence the main idea of ​​the play: neither personal happiness, nor true success in art are unattainable if a person does not have a big goal, an all-consuming super-task of life and creativity.

In Chekhov's play, only one creature found such a super-task - wounded, exhausted by life, turned into one continuous suffering, one continuous pain, and yet happy! This is Nina Zarechnaya. This is the meaning of the play.

But what is the most important task of the author himself? Why did Chekhov write his play? What gave rise to this desire to convey to the viewer the idea of ​​an indissoluble connection between a person's personal happiness and the great, all-encompassing goal of his life and work?

Studying Chekhov's work, his correspondence and the testimonies of his contemporaries, it is not difficult to establish that this deep longing for a great goal lived in Chekhov himself. The search for this goal is the source that fed Chekhov's work during the creation of The Seagull. To excite the same desire in the audience of the future performance - this is probably the most important task that inspired the author.

Consider now the play "Invasion" by L. Leonov. Time of action - the first months of the Great Patriotic War. The scene is a small town somewhere in the west of the European part of the Soviet Union. Wednesday - the family of a Soviet doctor. In the center of the play is the son of a doctor, a broken, spiritually distorted, socially ill person who has become separated from his family and his people. The action of the play is the process of turning this selfish person into a real Soviet person, into a patriot and hero. The theme is the spiritual rebirth of man during the struggle of the Soviet people against the fascist invaders in 1941-1942.

Showing the process of spiritual rebirth of his hero, L. Leonov demonstrates faith in man. He seems to be telling us: no matter how low a person falls, one should not lose hope for the possibility of his rebirth! The heavy grief hanging over the native land like a lead cloud, the endless suffering of loved ones, an example of their heroism and self-sacrifice - all this awakened in Fyodor Talanov love for the Motherland, fanned the flame of life smoldering in his soul into a bright flame.

Fedor Talanov died for a just cause. In his death he gained immortality. This is how the idea of ​​the play is revealed: there is no higher happiness than unity with one's people, than a feeling of blood and inseparable connection with them.

To evoke trust in people for each other, to unite them in a common feeling of high patriotism and inspire them to great work and high feat for the sake of saving the Motherland - this, it seems to me, was seen by one of the greatest writers of our country in the time of its most difficult trials as his civil and artistic super-task. .

Consider also the dramatization of Chap. Grakov "Young Guard" based on the novel by A. Fadeev.

The peculiarity of this play lies in the fact that its plot contains almost no elements of fiction, but is made up of historically reliable facts of life itself, which have received the most accurate reflection in the novel by A. Fadeev. The gallery of images depicted in the play is a series of artistic portraits of real people.

Thus, the concretization of the subject of the image is brought here to the limit. To the questions "when?" and where?" in this case, we have the opportunity to answer absolutely exactly: in the days of the Great Patriotic War in the city of Krasnodon.

The theme of the play is, therefore, the life, activities and heroic death of a group of Soviet youth during the occupation of Krasnodon by fascist troops.

The monolithic unity of the Soviet people during the Great Patriotic War, moral and political unity - this is what the life and death of a group of Soviet youth, known as the Young Guards, testifies to. This is the ideological meaning of both the novel and the play.

Young people are dying. But their death is not perceived as the fatal ending of the classic tragedy. For in their very death lies the triumph of the higher principles of life uncontrollably striving forward, the inner victory of the human personality, which has retained its connection with the collective, with the people, with all struggling humanity. The Young Guards perish with the consciousness of their strength and the complete impotence of the enemy. Hence the optimism and romantic power of the finale.

Thus was born the broadest generalization based on the creative assimilation of the facts of reality. The study of the novel and its staging provides excellent material for reaching the patterns underlying the unity of the concrete and the abstract in realistic art.

Consider the comedy "Truth is good, but happiness is better" by A. N. Ostrovsky.

Time of action - the end of the last century. Location - Zamoskvorechye, merchant environment. The theme is the love of a rich merchant's daughter and a poor burgher clerk, a young man full of lofty feelings and noble aspirations.

What does A. N. Ostrovsky say about this love? What is the ideological meaning of the play?

The hero of the comedy - Plato Unsteady (oh, what an unreliable surname he has!) - we are overwhelmed not only with love for a rich bride (with a cloth snout and a kalash row!), But to our misfortune, also with a pernicious passion to tell the truth to everyone indiscriminately in eyes, including those of the powers that be, who, if they want, will grind this Don Quixote from outside Moscow to powder. And the poor man would have been in a debtor's prison, and not married Poliksen, dear to his heart, if it were not for a completely accidental circumstance in the person of "Under" Groznov.

Happening! Almighty happy occasion! Only he was able to help out a good, honest, but poor guy who had the imprudence to be born in a world where human dignity is trampled with impunity by rich tyrants, where happiness depends on the size of the wallet, where everything is bought and sold, where there is no honor, no conscience, no truth. This, it seems to us, is the idea behind Ostrovsky's charming comedy.

The dream of such a time when everything will change radically on Russian soil and the lofty truth of free thought and good feelings will triumph over the lies of oppression and violence - is this not the main task of A. N. Ostrovsky, the great Russian playwright-humanist?

Let us now turn to Shakespeare's Hamlet.

When and where does the famous tragedy take place?

Before answering this question, it should be noted that there are literary works in which both time and place of action are fictitious, unreal, just as fantastic and conditional as the work as a whole. These include all plays that are allegorical in nature: fairy tales, legends, utopias, symbolic dramas, etc. However, the fantastic nature of these plays not only does not deprive us of the possibility, but even obliges us to raise the question of whether it is quite real time and no less real place, which, although not named by the author, but in a hidden form form the basis of this work.

In this case, our question takes on the following form: when and where does (or did) reality exist, which is reflected in a fantastic form in this work?

"Hamlet" cannot be called a work of the fantastic genre, although there is a fantastic element in this tragedy (the ghost of Hamlet's father). Nevertheless, in this case, the dates of the life and death of Prince Hamlet are hardly significant in accordance with the exact data from the history of the Kingdom of Denmark. This tragedy by Shakespeare, in contrast to his historical chronicles, is, in our opinion, the least historical work. The plot of this play is more in the nature of a poetic legend than a truly historical incident.

The legendary prince Amlet lived in the 8th century. Its history was first told by Saxo the Grammarian around 1200. Meanwhile, everything that happens in Shakespeare's tragedy, by its nature, can be attributed to a much later period - when Shakespeare himself lived and worked. This period of history is known as the Renaissance.

In creating Hamlet, Shakespeare was creating not a historical, but a contemporary play for that time. This determines the answer to the question "when?" - in the Renaissance, on the verge of the 16th and 17th centuries.

As for the question "where?", it is not difficult to establish that Denmark was taken by Shakespeare as a place of action conditionally. The events taking place in the play, their atmosphere, manners, customs and behavior of the characters - all this is more typical for England itself than for any other country of Shakespeare's era. Therefore, the question of the time and place of action in this case can be resolved as follows: England (conditionally - Denmark) in the Elizabethan era.

What is said in this tragedy in relation to the indicated time and place of action?

In the center of the play is Prince Hamlet. Who is he? Whom did Shakespeare reproduce in this image? Any specific person? Hardly! Himself? To some extent, this may be so. But on the whole, we have before us a collective image with typical features characteristic of the advanced intelligent youth of the Shakespearean era.

The well-known Soviet Shakespeare scholar A. Anikst refuses to admit, together with some researchers, that the fate of Hamlet has as its prototype the tragedy of one of Queen Elizabeth's close associates - the Earl of Essex, who was executed by her, or some other specific person. “In real life,” Anikst writes, “there was a tragedy of the best people of the Renaissance - humanists. They developed a new ideal of society and the state based on justice and humanity, but they were convinced that there were still no real opportunities for its implementation”3.

The tragedy of these people found, according to A. Anikst, its reflection in the fate of Hamlet.

What was especially characteristic of these people?

Broad education, humanistic way of thinking, ethical exactingness to oneself and others, philosophical mindset and belief in the possibility of establishing on earth the ideals of goodness and justice as the highest moral standards. Along with this, they were characterized by such qualities as ignorance of real life, inability to reckon with real circumstances, underestimation of the strength and deceit of the hostile camp, contemplation, excessive gullibility and good-heartedness. Hence: impetuosity and instability in the struggle (alternating moments of ups and downs), frequent hesitation and doubts, early disappointment in the correctness and fruitfulness of the steps taken.

Who surrounds these people? What world do they live in? In a world of triumphant evil and brutal violence, in a world of bloody atrocities and a brutal struggle for power; in a world where all moral norms are neglected, where the highest law is the right of the strong, where absolutely no means are squeamish to achieve base goals. With great power, Shakespeare portrayed this cruel world in Hamlet's famous monologue "To be or not to be?".

Hamlet had to face this world closely so that his eyes would be opened and his character would gradually evolve towards greater activity, courage, firmness and endurance. A certain life experience was needed to understand the bitter need to fight evil with its own weapons. Comprehension of this truth - in the words of Hamlet: "To be kind, I must be cruel."

But - alas! - this useful discovery came to Hamlet too late. He did not have time to break the insidious intricacies of his enemies. For the lesson he had to pay with his life.

So, what is the theme of the famous tragedy?

The fate of a young humanist of the Renaissance, who, like the author himself, professed the advanced ideas of his time and tried to enter into an unequal struggle with the "sea of ​​evil" in order to restore trampled justice - this is how the theme of Shakespeare's tragedy can be briefly formulated.

Now let's try to solve the question: what is the idea of ​​tragedy? What truth does the author want to reveal?

There are many different answers to this question. And each director has the right to choose the one that seems to him the most correct. The author of this book, while working on the production of "Hamlet" on the stage of the Theater named after Evg. Vakhtangov, formulated his answer in the following words: unpreparedness for the struggle, loneliness and contradictions corroding the psyche doom people like Hamlet to inevitable defeat in single combat with the surrounding evil.

But if this is the idea of ​​tragedy, then what is the author's super-task, which runs through the entire play and ensured its immortality through the ages?

The fate of Hamlet is sad, but it is natural. The death of Hamlet is the inevitable result of his life and struggle. But this struggle is by no means fruitless. Hamlet died, but the ideals of goodness and justice suffered by mankind, for the triumph of which he fought, live and will live forever, inspiring the movement of mankind forward. In the catharsis of the solemn finale of the play, we hear Shakespeare's call for courage, firmness, activity, a call for struggle. This, I think, is the most important task of the creator of immortal tragedy.

From the above examples it is clear what a responsible task is the definition of the topic. To err, to establish incorrectly the range of life phenomena subject to creative reproduction in the performance means that following this it is also incorrect to define the idea of ​​the play.

And in order to define the theme correctly, it is necessary to indicate exactly those specific phenomena that served as the object of reproduction for the playwright.

Of course, this task turns out to be difficult if we are talking about a purely symbolic work, cut off from life, leading the reader into a mystical-fantastic world of unreal images. In this case, the play, considering the problems posed in it outside of time and space, is devoid of any concrete life content.

However, even in this case, we can still characterize the specific social class situation that determined the author's worldview and thus determined the nature of this work. For example, we can find out what specific phenomena of social life determined the ideology that found its expression in the nightmarish abstractions of Leonid Andreev's Life of a Man. In this case, we will say that the theme of "The Life of a Man" is not the life of a person in general, but the life of a person in the view of a certain part of the Russian intelligentsia during the period of political reaction in 1907.

In order to understand and appreciate the idea of ​​this play, we will not begin to reflect on human life outside of time and space, but will study the processes that took place in a certain historical period among the Russian intelligentsia.

Determining the topic, looking for an answer to the question of what the given work is talking about, we may be stumped by the unexpected circumstance for us that the play says a lot at once.

So, for example, Gorky's "Egor Bulychov" speaks of God, and death, and war, and the impending revolution, and relations between the older and younger generations, and various kinds of commercial fraud, and the struggle for inheritance - in a word, what is not said in this play! How, among the many topics, one way or another touched upon in this work, is it possible to single out the main, leading theme, which combines all the “secondary” ones and, thus, informs the whole work of integrity and unity?

In order to answer this question in each individual case, it is necessary to determine what exactly in the circle of these phenomena of life served as the creative impulse that prompted the author to take up the creation of this play, what nourished his interest, his creative temperament.

This is exactly what we tried to do in the above examples. Decay, disintegration of the bourgeois family - this is how we defined the theme of Gorky's play. Why did she interest Gorky? Is it not because he saw an opportunity through it to reveal his main idea, to show the process of decomposition of the entire bourgeois society - a sure sign of its imminent and inevitable death? And it is not difficult to prove that the theme of the internal disintegration of the bourgeois family in this case subordinates all other themes to itself: it absorbs them, as it were, and thus puts them at its service.

The super-super-task of the playwright

In order to understand the idea of ​​the play and the super-task of the author in their deepest, most secret content, it is not enough to study only this play. The super-task of the play is clarified in the light of the author's worldview as a whole, in the light of that general super-task that characterizes the entire creative path of the writer, imparts inner integrity and unity to his work.

If we called the ideological orientation that nourishes this work, we call it a super-task, then the ideological aspiration that underlies the entire creative path of the writer can be called a super-super task. Consequently, the super-super-task is a clot, the quintessence of everything that makes up both the worldview and the work of the writer. In the light of the super-super-task, it is not difficult to deepen, clarify, and, if necessary, correct the formulation of the super-task of this play that we have found. After all, the super-task of the play is a special case of the manifestation of the super-super-task of the writer.

Finding out the place and significance of this play in the context of the entire work of the writer, the director enters deeper into his spiritual world, into the laboratory where this work was born and matured. And this, in turn, enables the director to acquire that invaluable quality that can be called the feeling of the author or the feeling of the play. This feeling will appear only when the fruits of study, analysis and reflection, united with each other, turn into a holistic fact of the director's emotional life, into a deep and indivisible creative experience. Under its influence, the creative concept of the future performance will gradually mature.

To better understand what a writer's super-super-task is, let's turn to the work of outstanding representatives of Russian and Soviet literature.

Studying the work of Leo Tolstoy, it is not difficult to establish that his super-super-task was of a pronounced ethical nature and consisted in a passionate dream of realizing the ideal of a morally perfect person.

The super-super-task of A. P. Chekhov’s creativity was more of an aesthetic nature and consisted in the dream of the inner and outer beauty of the human person and human relationships and, accordingly, also included a deep disgust for everything that suffocates, destroys, kills beauty, - to all kinds of vulgarity and spiritual philistinism. “Everything should be beautiful in a person,” Chekhov says through the mouth of one of his characters, “both face, and clothes, and soul, and thoughts.”

If, in the light of this super-super-task, we consider the super-task that we set in relation to The Seagull (the pursuit of a large, all-encompassing goal), then this super-task will seem to us even deeper and more meaningful. We will understand that only a great goal, giving meaning to a person's life and creativity, can wrest him from the captivity of a vulgar petty-bourgeois existence and make his life truly beautiful.

The life-giving source that nourished the work of M. Gorky was the dream of the liberation of the human personality from all forms of physical and spiritual slavery, of its spiritual wealth, of a bold flight, of daring. Gorky wanted the very word "man" to sound proud, and he saw the way to this in the revolution. The super-super-task of his work was of a socio-poetic nature. The supertask of his play "Yegor Bulychov and Others" and the supertask of Gorky's entire work coincide completely.

The work of A. N. Ostrovsky, fundamentally deeply national, nourished by the juices of folk life and folk art, grew out of an ardent desire to see his native people free from violence and lack of rights, from ignorance and tyranny. Ostrovsky's super-super-task was of a social and ethical nature and had deep national roots. The humanistic super-task of his play Truth is Good, But Happiness is Better, which expressed the author's deep sympathy for the honest, simple and noble "little man", follows entirely from the super-super-task of all the work of the great playwright.

F. M. Dostoevsky passionately wanted to believe in God, who would cleanse the soul of man from vices, humble his pride, defeat the devil in the human soul and thus create a society united by the great love of people for each other. The super-super-task of Dostoevsky's work was of a religious and ethical nature with a significant amount of social utopia.

The passionate satirical temperament of Saltykov-Shchedrin, driven by the greatest hatred of slavery and despotism, was fed by the dream of a radical change in the then political system, the bearer of all evils and vices. The super-super-task of the great satirist was of a social-revolutionary nature.

Let us turn to contemporary Soviet literature. For example, the work of Mikhail Sholokhov. Closely connected with the historical stages of the revolutionary destruction of the old and the creation of the new - both in the life of the entire Soviet people and in the minds of each individual person - it was fed by the dream of overcoming the painful contradictions between the old and the new, of a harmoniously whole human personality, consciously placing itself on service to the working people. The super-super-super-task of one of the greatest Soviet writers thus bears a revolutionary social and political character, while absorbing the principles of popular life.

Another outstanding Soviet writer, Leonid Leonov, subordinates his work to the great dream of a time when the tragedy of fratricidal enmity between individuals and entire nations will become impossible, when the curse of hatred and mutual extermination will be lifted from humanity and it will finally turn into one family of independent peoples and free peoples. of people. The super-super-task of Leonid Leonov's creativity is also multifaceted, but with a predominance of motives that lie in the plane of social ethics. The overarching goal of L. Leonov's play "Invasion", formulated by us as a desire to unite the audience in a common sense of high patriotism and inspire them to exploits in the name of the Motherland, is closely connected with the super-overall goal of the writer's entire work, for the war waged by the Soviet people against the fascist invaders was waged in the name of the highest principles of humanity, in the name of the triumph of peace among peoples and the happiness of people.

The above examples show that the super-super-task of the creativity of great artists, with all the unique features of each of them, grows from one common root. This common root is a high humanistic worldview. It has many sides and facets: ethical, aesthetic, socio-political, philosophical... Each artist expresses the facet that best suits his spiritual interests and spiritual structure, and this determines the super-super task of his work. But all rivers and streams flow into the ocean of humanistic aspirations suffered by mankind. Man is the meaning and purpose of art, its main subject and common theme for all its creators.

The anti-humanistic super-super-task - misanthropy, disbelief in man, in his ability to improve and rebuild the world in accordance with the highest ideals of goodness and justice - could never give birth to anything of value in art. For in humanism is the beauty and strength of art, its greatness.

That is why the principles of high humanity must underlie the evaluation of every play that the director wants to stage.

The study of reality

Suppose we have determined the theme of the play, revealed its main idea and the most important task. What should be done next?

Here we come to the point where the paths of various creative trends in theatrical art diverge. Depending on which path we choose, the question will be decided whether we limit our intentions in relation to this or that play to tasks of a purely illustrative nature, or whether we lay claim to a certain amount of creative independence, we want to enter into co-creation with the playwright and create a performance that will be fundamentally new work of art. In other words, it depends on whether we agree to accept the idea of ​​the play and all the conclusions of the author about the depicted reality on faith, or whether we want to develop our own attitude towards the object of the image, which - even if it coincides completely with the author's - will be experienced by us as our own. , blood, independently born, internally justified and justified.

But the second approach is impossible unless we digress temporarily from the play and turn directly to reality itself. After all, for the time being, apparently, we still do not have our own experience, our own knowledge and judgments about the phenomena of life that are within the scope of this topic. We do not have our own point of view from which we could consider and evaluate both the properties of the play and the idea of ​​the author. Therefore, any further work on the play, if we want to approach this topic creatively, is useless. If we continue this work, we will, willy-nilly, find ourselves in slavery to the playwright. We must acquire the right to further creative work on the play.

So, we must temporarily put the play aside, if possible even forget about it and turn directly to life itself. This requirement remains valid even if the theme of this play is very close to you, if the range of phenomena of real life displayed in the play is very well studied by you even before you get acquainted with the play itself. Such a case is quite possible. Suppose that your past, the conditions of your life, your profession made it so that you moved exactly in the environment that is depicted in the play, reflecting on precisely those issues that are raised in it - in a word, you know very well everything that concerns this Topics. In this case, your director's creative imagination involuntarily runs ahead, creating various colors of the future performance. And yet ask yourself: doesn’t the conscientiousness of the artist require that you recognize the available material as insufficient, incomplete, and shouldn’t you, now having a special creative task before you, once again study what you knew earlier? You will always find significant gaps in previous experience and knowledge that need to be filled, you will always be able to detect insufficient completeness and integrity in your judgments on a given subject.

We have already briefly described the process of cognition of reality in relation to the work of an actor on a role. Let us now develop this theme somewhat in relation to the art of the director.

Let us recall that all cognition begins with the sensory perception of concrete facts, with the accumulation of concrete impressions. The means for this is creative observation. Therefore, every artist, and therefore also a director, must first of all plunge headlong into the environment that he has to reproduce, eagerly gain the impressions he needs, constantly search for the necessary objects of observation.

So, the director's personal memories and observations are the means by which he accomplishes the task of accumulating the stock of concrete impressions he needs.

But personal impressions - memories, observations - are far from enough. The director can at best, for example, visit two or three villages, two or three factories. The facts and processes that he will witness may turn out to be insufficiently characteristic, insufficiently typical. Therefore, he does not have the right to limit himself to his personal experience - he must draw on the experience of other people to help him. This experience will make up for the lack of his own experiences.

This is all the more necessary when it comes to life distant from us in time or space. This includes all classical plays, as well as plays by foreign authors. In both cases, we are largely deprived of the opportunity to receive personal impressions, to use our own memories and observations.

I said "to a large extent" and not completely, because even in these cases we can see in the reality around us something similar, analogous. Yes, in essence, if we do not find an analogous or similar one in a classical or foreign play, then it is hardly worth staging such a play. But in the characters of almost any play, whenever and wherever it is written, we will find manifestations of universal human feelings - love, jealousy, fear, despair, anger, etc. Therefore, we have every reason to put, for example, " Othello", to observe how a feeling of jealousy manifests itself in modern people; staging "Macbeth" - how a person living in our time takes possession of a thirst for power, and then fear of the possibility of losing it. By staging Chekhov's The Seagull, we can still observe the suffering of an unrecognized innovative artist and the despair of rejected love. By staging Ostrovsky's plays, we can find manifestations of tyranny, hopeless love, fear of retribution for our actions in our reality ...

In order to observe all this, it is not at all necessary to plunge into the distant past or go abroad: all this is near us, because the grain, the root of any human experience, changes little over time or a change of place. Conditions, circumstances, causes change, but the experience itself remains in its essence almost unchanged. As for the specific shades in the external manifestations of human experiences (in plasticity, manners, rhythms, etc.), we can always make the necessary correction for the time or place of action, using the experience of other people who had the opportunity to observe the life of interest to us.

How can we use other people's experiences?

Historical documents, memoirs, fiction and publicistic literature of this era, poetry, painting, sculpture, music, photographic material - in a word, everything that can be found in historical and art museums and libraries is suitable for our task. Based on all these materials, we form the most complete picture of how people lived, what they thought about, how and because of what they fought among themselves; what interests, tastes, laws, manners, customs and characters they had; what they ate and how they dressed, how they built and decorated their dwellings; what concretely expressed their social class differences, etc., etc.

So, while working on the play "Egor Bulychov and Others", I called for help, firstly, my own memories: I remember the era of the First World War quite well, many impressions that I received in the environment of the bourgeoisie and the bourgeois intelligentsia remained in my memory, t i.e. just in the environment that was to be reproduced on the stage in this case. Secondly, I turned to all sorts of historical materials. Memoirs of political and public figures of that time, fiction, magazines and newspapers, photographs and paintings, songs and romances that were fashionable at that time - I attracted all this as necessary creative food. I read sets of several bourgeois newspapers (Rech, Russkoye Slovo, Novoye Vremya, the Black Hundred Russkoye Znamya, etc.), got acquainted with a number of memoirs and documents testifying to the revolutionary movement of that time - in general, on while working on the play, he turned his room into a small museum on the history of social life and class struggle in Russia during the era of the imperialist war and the February Revolution.

I emphasize that at this stage of the director's work, it is not generalizations, conclusions, conclusions concerning the life he is studying that are important, but so far only facts. More concrete facts - this is the slogan of the director at this stage.

But to what extent should the director be engaged in collecting facts? When will he finally get the right to say to himself with satisfaction: enough! Such a boundary is that happy moment when the director suddenly feels that an organically integral picture of the life of a given era and a given society has arisen in his mind. It suddenly begins to seem to the director that he himself lived in this environment and was a witness to the facts that he collected bit by bit from various sources. Now he can, without much effort, even tell about those aspects of the life of this society, about which no historical materials have been preserved. He already involuntarily begins to conclude and generalize. The accumulated material begins to synthesize itself in his mind.

E. B. Vakhtangov once said that an actor should know the image he creates as well as he knows his own mother. We have the right to say the same about the director: the life that he wants to reproduce on stage, he must know as well as he knows his own mother.

The measure of accumulation of factual material is different for each artist. One needs to accumulate more, the other needs less, so that as a result of the quantitative accumulation of facts, a new quality arises: a holistic, complete idea of ​​these phenomena of life.

E. B. Vakhtangov writes in his diary: “For some reason, I clearly and vividly feel this spirit (the spirit of the era) from two or three empty hints, and almost always, almost unmistakably, I can even tell the details of the life of the century, society, caste - habits, laws, clothing, etc."

But it is known that Vakhtangov had a great talent and exceptional intuition. In addition, the above lines were written at a time when he was already a mature master with a wealth of creative experience. A director who is just mastering his art should in no case rely on his intuition to the extent that Vakhtangov could do it, to the extent that people with exceptional talent and, moreover, vast experience can do it. Modesty is the best virtue of an artist, for this virtue is the most useful to him. Let us, not relying on "inspiration", carefully and diligently study life! It is always better to do more than less in this regard. In any case, we can not calm down until we achieve the same thing that E. B. Vakhtangov achieved, that is, until we can, like him, "unmistakably tell even the details" from the life of a given society. Even if Vakhtangov achieved this at the cost of incomparably less effort than we manage to do, we can still say that in the final analysis, in the result achieved, we caught up with Vakhtangov.

The process of accumulating live impressions and concrete facts ends with the fact that we involuntarily begin to conclude and generalize. The process of cognition thus enters a new phase. Our mind strives behind the external chaotic incoherence of impressions, behind the many separate facts that are still separate for us, to see internal connections and relationships, their subordination to each other and interaction.

Reality appears to our eyes not in a stationary state, but in constant motion, in continuous changes. These changes initially seem to us random, devoid of internal patterns. We want to understand what they ultimately boil down to, we want to see behind them a single internal movement. In other words, we want to reveal the essence of the phenomenon, to establish what it was, what it is and what it is becoming, to establish the development trend. The end result of knowledge is a rationally expressed idea, and every idea is a generalization.

Thus, the path of cognition is from the external to the essence, from the concrete to the abstract, in which all the richness of the known concreteness is preserved.

But just as in the process of accumulating live impressions we did not rely solely on personal experience, but also used the experience of other people, so in the process of analyzing the phenomena of reality, we have no right to rely solely on our own strength, but must use the intellectual experience of mankind.

If we want to stage Hamlet, we will have to study a number of scientific studies on the history of the class struggle, philosophy, culture and art of the Renaissance. Thus, we will sooner and more easily come to an understanding of the heap of facts accumulated by us from the life of the people of the 16th century than if we had carried out the analysis of these facts only on our own.

In this regard, the question may arise: was it not in vain that we spent time on observations and on collecting specific material, since we can find the analysis and opening of this material in finished form?

No, not in vain. If this particular material did not exist in our minds, we would perceive the conclusions found in scientific works as a bare abstraction. Now these conclusions live in our minds, filled with a wealth of colors and images of reality. Namely, this is how any reality should be reflected in a work of art: in order for it to influence the mind and soul of the perceiver, it should not be a schematic abstraction, but at the same time it should not be a heap of concrete materials of reality that are not internally connected by anything, - in it the unity of the concrete and the abstract must necessarily be realized. And how can this unity be realized in the artist's work, if it has not previously been achieved in his mind, in his head?

So, the birth of an idea completes the process of cognition. Having come to the idea, we now have the right to return to the play again. Now we are on equal terms entering into co-creation with the author. If we have not caught up with him, then to a large extent we have approached him in the field of knowledge of life, subject to creative reflection, and we can enter into a creative alliance for cooperation in the name of common goals.

When starting to study the reality that is subject to creative reflection, it is useful to draw up a plan for this large and laborious work, dividing it into several interrelated topics. So, for example, if we are talking about the production of "Hamlet", we can imagine the following topics for processing:

1. The political structure of the English monarchy of the 16th century.

2. Socio-political life of England and Denmark in the XVI century.

3. Philosophy and science of the Renaissance (which Hamlet studied at the University of Wittenberg).

4. Literature and poetry of the Renaissance (what Hamlet read).

5. Painting, sculpture and architecture of the 16th century (what Hamlet saw around him).

6. Music in the Renaissance (what Hamlet listened to).

7. Court life of the English and Danish kings of the XVI century.

8. Etiquette at the court of the English and Danish kings of the XVI century.

9. Women's and men's costumes in England of the 16th century.

10. Warfare and sport in England of the 16th century.

11. Statements about "Hamlet" of the largest representatives of world literature and criticism.

The study of reality in connection with the production of Chekhov's "The Seagull" can take place approximately according to the following plan:

1. Socio-political life of Russia in the 90s of the XIX century.

2. The position of the middle landlord class at the end of the last century.

3. The position of the intelligentsia in the same period (in particular, the social life of the then students).

4. Philosophical currents in Russia at the end of the last century.

5. Literary currents in this period.

6. Theatrical art of this time.

7. Music and painting of this time.

8. Life of provincial theaters at the end of the last century.

9. Women's and men's costumes from the end of the last century.

10. History of productions of "The Seagull" in St. Petersburg, on the stage of the Alexandrinsky Theater, in 1896 and in Moscow, on the stage of the Art Theater, in 1898.

Separate topics of the plan drawn up in this way can be divided among the members of the director's staff and the performers of responsible roles so that each makes a report on this topic to the entire composition of the participants in the performance.

In theatrical educational institutions, during the practical passage of this section of the directing course on a specific example of a play, the topics of the plan drawn up by the teacher can be divided among the students of the study group.

Director's reading of the play

When the work, which had the goal of direct knowledge of life, was crowned with certain conclusions and generalizations, the director gets the right to return to the study of the play. Rereading it, he now perceives many things differently than the first time. His perception will become critical. After all, he had his own ideological position, based on the facts of living reality he had studied. He now has the opportunity to compare the leading idea of ​​the play with the one that was born to him in the process of independent study of life. He won the right to agree or disagree with the author of the play. Having agreed, he will become his conscious like-minded person and, creating a performance, will enter into creative cooperation with him on an equal footing.

It is very good if a reading of the play at this stage does not reveal any significant differences between the director and the author. In this case, the director's task will be reduced to the most complete, vivid and accurate disclosure of the ideological content of the play by means of the theater.

But what if there are serious discrepancies? If it turns out that these differences concern the very essence of the depicted life and are therefore irreconcilable? In this case, the director will have no choice but to categorically refuse to stage the play. For in this case, he will still not succeed in anything worthwhile from working on it.

True, in the history of the theater there were cases when a self-confident director took on a play that was ideologically hostile to his own views, hoping to turn the ideological content of the play inside out with the help of specific theatrical means. However, such experiments, as a rule, were not rewarded with any significant success. This is not surprising. For it is impossible to give a play a meaning that is directly opposite to the author's idea, without violating the principle of the organic nature of the performance. And the lack of organicity cannot but have a negative impact on its artistic persuasiveness.

The ethical side of the issue should also be touched upon. The high ethics of the theater's creative relationship with the playwright categorically prohibits free treatment of the author's text. This applies not only to modern authors, who, if necessary, can protect their rights in court, but also to the authors of classical works, defenseless against directorial arbitrariness. Only public opinion and art criticism can help the classics, but they do this, unfortunately, not in all cases when it is necessary.

That is why it is so important for the director himself to have a sense of responsibility towards the playwright, to handle the author's text carefully, with respect and tact. This feeling should be an integral part of both the director's and actor's ethics.

If the presence of fundamental ideological differences with the author entails a very simple decision - the rejection of the production, then minor disagreements relating to various particulars, shades and details in the characterization of the phenomena depicted, by no means exclude the possibility of a very fruitful cooperation between the author and the director.

Therefore, the director must carefully study the play from the point of view of his understanding of the reality reflected in it and accurately establish the moments that, from his point of view, require development, clarification, emphasis, amendments, additions, abbreviations, etc.

The main criterion for determining the legitimate, natural boundaries of the director's interpretation of the play is the goal, pursuing which the director realizes in the performance the fruits of his imagination that arose in the process of creative reading of the play, relying on independent knowledge of life. If this goal is the desire to express the author’s super-task and the main idea of ​​the play as deeply, more accurately and vividly as possible, then any creative invention of the director, any departure from the author’s remark, any subtext not provided for by the author, which is the basis for the interpretation of a particular scene, any director's paint, up to changes in the very structure of the play (not to mention the textual amendments agreed with the author). All this is justified by the very ideological task of the performance and is unlikely to cause objections from the author, because he is more interested than anyone else in the best way to convey to the viewer his super-task and the main idea of ​​the play!

However, before finally deciding whether to stage a play, the director must answer a very important question for himself: for what, in the name of what, does he want to stage this play today, for today's audience, in today's conditions of social life? That is, the second element of the Vakhtangov triad naturally comes into its own - the factor of modernity.

The director must feel the idea of ​​the play and the super-task of the author in the light of contemporary socio-political and cultural tasks, evaluate the play from the point of view of the spiritual needs, tastes and aspirations of today's viewer, understand for himself what the audience will get from his performance, what kind of response he expects with what feelings and thoughts he is going to let them go after the performance.

All this taken together should find expression in the more or less precisely formulated super-task of the director himself, which in the future will turn into the super-task of the performance.

Does this mean that the supertask of the author and the supertask of the director may not coincide? Yes, they can, but the super-task of the author should always be part of the super-task of the director. The super-task of the director may turn out to be wider than the author’s, because it always includes the motive of modernity when it answers the question: why do I, the director, want to realize the author’s super-task today?

The supertasks of the author and the director can fully coincide only in those cases when the director is staging a contemporary play. This is exactly what happened in my directing practice when I staged such plays as "Invasion" by L. Leonov, "Aristocrats" by N. Pogodin, "Young Guard" based on the novel by A. Fadeev, "First Joys" based on the novel by K. Fedin. In all these cases, I did not see any difference in the goals for which these works were written, and the tasks that I set myself as a director. Our "for the sake of what" completely coincided.

However, sometimes a decade separating the creation of a play from its staging is enough for the identity of the supertasks of the author and the director to be violated. As for the classics, usually such a violation turns out to be completely inevitable. The time factor plays a huge role in this case.

Each more or less "old" play inevitably raises the question of its today's director's reading. And today's reading finds its expression primarily in the director's super-task. The absence of a clear and precise answer to the question why this play is staged today is very often the reason for the director's creative defeat. The history of the theater knows examples when an excellent play, excellently staged by an experienced director and played by talented actors, failed hopelessly, because there was no contact between the performance and today's interests of the audience.

This, of course, is not about following the spectators' tastes, indulging the tastes of the backward part of the spectator mass. By no means! The theater should not descend to the level of the "average" spectator, but raise it to the level of the highest spiritual demands of its time. However, the theater will not be able to solve this super-task if it ignores the real interests and demands of its viewer, if it does not take into account the peculiarities of perception inherent in this viewer, if it does not want to reckon with the spirit of the times and does not fill its super-task with lively, interesting, large and exciting today's content. Certainly fascinating and certainly contemporary, even if the play itself was written three hundred years ago.

The director will be able to carry out this task only if he has a sense of time, i.e., the ability to grasp in the current life of his country and the whole world that fundamental thing that determines the course of social development.

In search of examples illustrating the definition of the director's super-task, let me turn again to my own director's practice. During the period when I staged Hamlet on the stage of the Vakhtangov Theater (1958), the ideas of abstract humanism, imbued with a condescending, conciliatory attitude towards the carriers of social evil, were propagated with particular energy in the West. His preachers then and continue to oppose their “non-class”, “non-party” humanism to humanism, which combines deep humanity with adherence to principles, firmness in the struggle, and, if necessary, ruthlessness towards enemies.

Under the influence of reflections on this topic, my idea of ​​staging Hamlet took shape. I felt the essence of the director's super-task in Hamlet's phrase in the scene with his mother: "To be kind, I must be cruel." The thought of the moral legitimacy of such forced cruelty became a guiding star in my work on Hamlet. Under its influence, I felt the human character of Hamlet not in static, but in continuous development.

Hamlet questioning the shadow of his father in the first act, and Hamlet striking the king in the finale of the play - these, it seemed to me, were two different people, two different human characters. I wanted to show the process of the formation of Hamlet's personality in such a way that at the beginning of the performance he appeared before the audience in the form of a restless, unbalanced, wavering young man full of internal contradictions, and at the end he declared himself as a mature man, with a firm and purposeful character.

Unfortunately, for a number of reasons, I was not able to fully implement this plan at that time. I flatter myself that if not me, then someone else will sooner or later accomplish this task. And then the audience will leave the performance not depressed by the tragic denouement, but internally armed with the consciousness of their strength, their courage, with an awakened conscience, with a mobilized will and readiness to fight.

Not so long ago (at the end of 1971) I happened to stage Ostrovsky's comedy "True is good, but happiness is better" at the National Armenian Theater named after Sundukyan (in Yerevan, in Armenian). What circumstances and facts of modern life fed in this case my director's super-task?

I wanted to show the Armenian audience a performance in which the elements of the Russian national spirit would be clearly manifested, that is, the beginning with which Ostrovsky's work is thoroughly saturated. I wanted the Armenian actors to feel and appreciate the beauty of the national characters shown in this charming comedy, the kindness of a Russian person, the scope of his freedom-loving nature, the strength of his temperament, the poetry of his national plasticity, his special rhythmic structure and much more, which is a specific feature Russian people. It seemed to me that such a performance could be for its creators a worthy form of participation in the upcoming national holiday (the 50th anniversary of the formation of the USSR), designed to demonstrate and strengthen the great friendship between all the peoples of our country. This desire was my director's super-task.

1 Nemirovich-Danchenko Vl. I. From the past. M, 1936. S. 154.

2 "Hamlet" was written in 1600-1601.

3 Anixt A. Shakespeare. M, 1964. S. 211.

Its definition in the article "Dark Kingdom". [Nedzvetsky, Zykova p. 215]

Nikolai Alexandrovich Dobrolyubov - the second largest representative real critics in the 1860s. D himself invented the term real criticism.

In 1857, Dobrolyubov became a permanent contributor to the Sovremennik magazine.

Dobrolyubov signed under the pseudonym "Mr. Bov", and he was answered under the same pseudonym. Literary position D was determined in 1857-1858. in the articles “Provincial essays ... from Shchedrin’s notes” and “On the degree of participation of the people in the development of Russian literature”, its completion in the largest works “What is Oblomovism”, “Dark Kingdom”, “Ray of Light in the Dark Kingdom”, “When will a new day come? and Downtrodden People.

Serial Ally H:

1) D is a direct ally of Chernyshevsky in the struggle for the "party of the people in literature", the creation of a movement that depicts Russian reality from the position of the people (peasantry) and serves the cause of liberation.

2) Just like Ch, he fights with aestheticians on the role of art and the main subject (according to Ch, the role of art is serving the idea, the political nature of the idea is necessary, the main subject of the image is not the beautiful, but the person). He calls aesthetic criticism dogmatic, dooming art to immobility.

3) It relies, like Ch, on the legacy of Belinsky (Speech on criticism of Belinsky) [for more details, see Question 5, 1) a)]

The originality of Dobrolyubov: materialism is not ideological, but anthropological. (Following the anthropological materialists of France in the 17th century: Jean-Jacques Rousseau). According to Feirbach, the anthropological principle has the following requirements of human nature, nature, nature: 1) a person is reasonable, 2) a person strives for work, 3) a person is a social, collective being, 4) strives for happiness, benefit, 5) is free and freedom-loving. A normal person combines all these points. These demands are rational egoism, that is, egoism subdued by reason. Russian society has nothing to do with this. Conflict of nature and human social environment.

1) Understanding the meaning in the act of creativity of the artist's direct feelings in addition to the unambiguous ideological nature of the artist Chernyshevsky. Belinsky called it " the power of direct creativity, those. the ability to reproduce the subject in its entirety.

Ch and D reproached Gogol for not being able to rise to the level of an ideological struggle despite his enormous "power of direct creativity." D in the analysis of Ostrovsky and Goncharov indicates how their main advantages are the strength of talent, and not ideological => inconsistency of the ideological requirement. The "feeling" of the artist may come into conflict with the ideology.

Example

The analysis of Ostrovsky's play "Poverty is no vice" (BnP) is indicative.

a) Chernyshevsky in his review article "Poverty is not a vice"[not in the list, for those who have not read the brief retelling] mocks Ostrovsky, calling almost fools those who put Shakespeare and the BNP on a par. The BNP is a pitiful parody of “Our people - let's settle”, it seems that the BNP was written by an imitator-half-educated. The introduction to the novel is too long, the characters act somehow at the will of the author, and not really, everything is unnatural (Tortsova writes a letter to Mitya, reading poetry and Koltsov are obvious inconsistencies). And the main scourge - bad idea chosen by Ostrovsky! Abundantly shit with bricks from the images of mummers - a clear example of decrepit antiquity, no progressiveness. A false thought bleeds even the brightest talent. A little inferior all the same: "some characters are distinguished by genuine sincerity."

boo Dobrolyubova otherwise: article "Dark Realm"

[abstract]

Not one of the modern Russian writers has been subjected, in his literary activity, to such a strange fate as Ostrovsky. 1. One party was made up of the young editors of Moskvityanin 3, who proclaimed that Ostrovsky "created the folk theater in Russia with four plays" ["Our people - we will settle", "Poor Bride", "BnP" and other early plays]. Ostrovsky's praisers shouted what he said new word nation! Mostly admiration for the image of Lyubim Tortsov. [gives completely over-sweetened comparisons with Shakespeare and other intoxicating crap] 2. "Notes of the Fatherland" constantly served as an enemy camp for Ostrovsky, and most of their attacks were directed at critics who extolled his works. The author himself constantly remained on the sidelines, until very recently. Thus, the enthusiastic praisers of Ostrovsky [bringing to the point of absurdity] only prevented many from directly and simply looking at his talent. Each presented his own demands, and at the same time each scolded others who had opposite demands, each without fail used some of the merits of one Ostrovsky's work in order to impute them to another work, and vice versa. The reproaches are opposite: either in the vulgarity of merchant life, or in the fact that merchants are not disgusting enough, and so on. Hairpin in Chernyshevsky: not only that - he was even reproached for the fact that he devotes himself too exclusively to the correct depiction of reality (i.e., performance), not caring about idea their works. In other words, he was reproached precisely for the absence or insignificance tasks, which other critics recognized as too broad, too superior to the means of their very implementation.

And one more thing: She [criticism] will never allow herself, for example, such a conclusion: this person is distinguished by attachment to old prejudices

Conclusion: Everyone recognized in Ostrovsky a remarkable talent, and as a result, all critics wanted to see in him an advocate and conductor of those convictions with which they themselves were imbued.

The task of criticism is formulated as follows: So, assuming that readers know the content of Ostrovsky's plays and their very development, we will only try to recall the features common to all of his works or most of them, to reduce these features to one result, and from them to determine the significance of the literary activity of this writer. [Find out what the author wanted from himself and how he successfully / unsuccessfully achieved this].

Real criticism and its features:

1) Recognizing such demands as quite fair, we consider it best to apply criticism to Ostrovsky's works real consisting in a review of what his works give us.

2) There will be no demands here, such as why Ostrovsky does not portray characters like Shakespeare, why he does not develop comic action like Gogol ... after all, we recognize Ostrovsky as a wonderful writer in our literature, finding that he is himself , as it is, is very good-looking and deserves our attention and study ...

3) In the same way, real criticism does not allow the imposition of other people's thoughts on the author. Before her court are the persons created by the author, and their actions; she must say what impression these faces make on her, and she can blame the author only if the impression is incomplete, unclear, ambiguous.

4) Real criticism treats the work of an artist in exactly the same way as it does the phenomena of real life: it studies them, trying to determine their own norm, to collect their essential, characteristic features, but not at all fussing over why it is oats - not rye, and coal is not a diamond.

5) Postulates about Ostrovsky

Firstly, everyone recognizes in Ostrovsky the gift of observation and the ability to present a true picture of the life of those classes from which he took the plots of his works.

Secondly, everyone noticed (although not everyone gave her due justice) the accuracy and fidelity of the folk language in Ostrovsky's comedies.

Thirdly, by the agreement of all critics, almost all the characters in Ostrovsky's plays are completely ordinary and do not stand out as anything special, do not rise above the vulgar environment in which they are staged. This is blamed by many on the author on the grounds that such faces, they say, must necessarily be colorless. But others rightly find very striking typical features in these everyday faces.

Fourthly, everyone agrees that in most of Ostrovsky’s comedies “there is a lack (in the words of one of his enthusiastic praisers) of economy in plan and construction of the play” and that as a result of this (in the words of another of his admirers) “the dramatic action does not develop in them consistently and continuously, the intrigue of the play does not merge organically with the idea of ​​the play and is, as it were, somewhat extraneous to it.

Fifth, everyone dislikes being too cool, random, denouement of Ostrovsky's comedies. In the words of one critic, at the end of the play "as if a whirlwind is sweeping across the room and turning all the heads of the actors at once" 30 .

6) outlook artist - general, reflected in his works. His own view of the world, which serves as the key to characterizing his talent, must be sought in the living images he creates.

About the feeling of the artist: it is considered dominant. the importance of artistic activity in a number of other areas of public life: the images created by the artist, collecting in themselves, as in a focus, the facts of real life, greatly contribute to the compilation and dissemination among people of the correct concepts of things [greased up to Chernyshevsky].

But a person with a more lively susceptibility, an "artistic nature", is strongly struck by the very first fact of a known kind that presented itself to him in the surrounding reality. He does not yet have theoretical considerations that could explain this fact; but he sees that there is something special, worthy of attention, and with greedy curiosity peers into the very fact, assimilates it.

7) About truthfulness: The main advantage of the writer-artist is truth his images; otherwise there will be false conclusions from them, false concepts will be formed, by their grace. The general concepts of the artist are correct and are in complete harmony with his nature, then this harmony and unity are reflected in the work. There is no absolute truth, but this does not mean that one must indulge in exceptional falsehood bordering on foolishness. Much more often he [Ostrovsky] seemed to retreat from his idea, precisely out of a desire to remain true to reality. The "mechanical dolls" that follow an idea are easy to create, but they are meaningless. U O: fidelity to the facts of reality and even some contempt for the logical isolation of the work.

ABOUT OSTROVSKY'S PLAYS

8) About heroes:

1st type: let's try to peer into the inhabitants inhabiting this dark realm. Soon you'll see that we didn't call it for nothing dark. senseless reigns tyranny. In people brought up under such dominion, a consciousness of moral duty and the true principles of honesty and law cannot develop. That is why the most outrageous fraud seems to them a meritorious feat, the most vile deceit a clever joke. Outward humility and stupid, concentrated grief, reaching the point of complete idiocy and the most deplorable depersonalization, are intertwined in the dark kingdom portrayed by Ostrovsky with slavish cunning, the most vile deceit, the most shameless treachery.

2nd type; Meanwhile, right next to it, just behind the wall, another life goes on, bright, neat, educated... Both sides of the dark kingdom feel the superiority of this life and are either frightened by it or attracted to it.

Explaining the play in detail "Family Picture" Ostrovsky. Ch. the hero is Puzatov, the apogee of tyranny, everyone in the house treats him like a simpleton and does everything behind his back. He notes the narvous stupidity of all the heroes, their treachery and tyranny. An example with Puzatov - he knocks on the table with his fist when he gets bored of waiting for tea. Heroes live in a state of permanent war. As a result of this order of affairs, everyone is in a state of siege, everyone is busy trying to save themselves from danger and deceive the enemy's vigilance. Fear and incredulity are written on all faces; the natural course of thinking is changed, and in place of sound concepts come special conditional considerations, distinguished by their bestial character and completely contrary to human nature. It is known that the logic of war is completely different from the logic of common sense. "This," says Puzatov, "is like a Jew: he will deceive his own father. That's right. So he looks everyone in the eye. But he pretends to be a saint."

AT "His people" we see again the same religion of hypocrisy and fraud, the same senselessness and tyranny of some, and the same deceptive humility, slavish cunning of others, but only in a greater ramification. The same applies to those of the inhabitants of the "dark kingdom" who had the strength and habit of doing things, so they all, from the very first step, embarked on such a path that could by no means lead to pure moral convictions. A working person has never had a peaceful, free and generally useful activity here; barely having time to look around, he already felt that he somehow found himself in an enemy camp and must, in order to save his existence, somehow cheat his enemies.

9) On the nature of crime in the dark realm:

Thus, we find a deeply true, characteristically Russian feature in the fact that Bolshov, in his malicious bankruptcy, does not follow any special beliefs and does not experience deep mental struggle except for fear, as if not to fall under a criminal ... Dark kingdom paradox: In distraction, all crimes seem to us to be something too terrible and extraordinary; but in particular cases they are for the most part performed very easily and explained extremely simply. According to the criminal court, the man turned out to be both a robber and a murderer; it seems that there should be a monster of nature. But look - he is not a monster at all, but a very ordinary and even good-natured person. In a crime, they understand only its external, legal side, which they justly despise if they can somehow get around it. The inner side, the consequences of the committed crime for other people and for society, do not appear to them at all. It's clear: the whole morality of Samson Silych is based on the rule: the better it is for others to steal, it's better for me to steal.

When Podkhalyuzin explains to him that “what a sin” can happen, that, perhaps, they will take away the estate and drag him through the courts, Bolshov answers: “What to do, brother; you will go." Podkhalyuzin replies: "That's right, sir, Samson Silych," but, in essence, it's not "accurate," but very absurd.

10) About what I wanted to say We have already had the opportunity to notice that one of the distinguishing features of Ostrovsky's talent is the ability to look into the very depths of a person's soul and notice not only the way of his thoughts and behavior, but the very process of his thinking, the very birth of his desires. He is tyrannical because he encounters in those around him not a firm rebuff, but constant humility; cheats and oppresses others because it only feels like this to him comfortable, but unable to feel how hard it is for them; he decides to go bankrupt again because he has not the slightest idea of ​​the social significance of such an act. [No typing! A look from the inside with an understanding of nature, and not horror from the outside!]

11) Female images, about love: faces of girls in almost all Ostrovsky's comedies. Avdotya Maksimovna, Lyubov Tortsova, Dasha, Nadya - all these are innocent, unrequited victims of tyranny, and that smoothing, cancellation human personality, which life has produced in them, has an almost bleaker effect on the soul than the very distortion of human nature in rogues like Podkhalyuzin. She will love every husband you need to find someone to love her." This means indifferent, unrequited kindness, exactly the kind that is developed in soft natures under the yoke of family despotism and which tyrants like most of all. For a person who is not infected with tyranny, all the charm of love is that the will of another being harmoniously merges with his will without the slightest coercion.That is why the charm of love is so incomplete and insufficient when reciprocity is achieved by some kind of extortion, deceit, bought for money or generally acquired by some external and by outside means.

12) Comic: So is the comedy of our "dark kingdom": the thing itself is simply funny, but in view of the tyrants and the victims, crushed by them in the darkness, the desire to laugh disappears ...

13) "Don't get off your sleigh"- again analyzes the images in detail ..

14) "Poverty is not a vice"

Selfishness and education: And to give up tyranny for some Gordey Karpych Tortsov means to turn into complete insignificance. And now he amuses himself over everyone around him: he pricks their eyes with their ignorance and persecutes them for any discovery of knowledge and common sense by them. He learned that educated girls speak well, and reproaches his daughter for not being able to speak; but as soon as she spoke, she shouted: "Shut up, you fool!" He saw that the educated clerks were dressing well, and he was angry with Mitya that his coat was bad; but the little man's salary continues to give him the most insignificant...

Under the influence of such a person and such relationships, the meek natures of Lyubov Gordeevna and Mitya develop, representing an example of what depersonalization can reach and to what complete incapacity and original activity oppression brings even the most sympathetic, selfless nature.

Why victims live with tyrants: The first of the reasons that keep people from resisting tyranny is - strange to say - sense of legitimacy and the second is the need for material support. At first glance, the two reasons we have presented must, of course, seem absurd. Apparently, quite the contrary: it is precisely the lack of a sense of legality and carelessness regarding material well-being that can explain the indifference of people to all the claims of tyranny. After all, Nastasya Pankratievna, without any irony, but, on the contrary, with a noticeable shade of reverence, says to her husband: "Who dares to offend you, father, Kit Kitsch? You yourself will offend everyone! .." Such a turn of affairs is very strange; but such is the logic of the "dark kingdom". Knowledge here is limited to a very narrow circle, there is almost no work for thought; everything goes mechanically, once for all routine. From this it is quite clear that here children never grow up, but remain children until they mechanically move to the place of their father.